Can Political Genius Be Separated from Moral Character?

Can Political Genius Be Separated from Moral Character?

Written by Dante Alighieri between 1308 and 1321, The Divine Comedy features a famous passage in Inferno, Canto XXVI, where Ulysses is placed in Hell among the fraudulent counsellors.¹ Known for his strategic intelligence, Ulysses delivers a famous speech to his men before sailing beyond the Gates of Hercules: “You were not made to live your lives as brutes, but to be followers of worth and knowledge.”² This message instantly resonated among his followers as it sounded noble, inspiring, and had a touch of heroism. Ulysses appealed to human dignity and virtue as he transformed his personal ambition into a collective purpose, thus demonstrating that he not only possessed great intelligence but that he also had eloquence and persuasive power. However, even though at first sight Ulysses may sound like a noble man, Dante condemns him to Inferno (Hell). His voyage becomes what he describes as the folle volo, or “mad flight”, and ultimately ends in total destruction.² This episode is useful to illustrate our dilemma: Ulysses’ extraordinary abilities did not necessarily imply that he had an extraordinary character. Even so, to continue, we must make the distinction between intelligence, persuasion, and wisdom—the first one being “the knowledge of how to pursue an objective”, the second one, “convincing others to pursue it”, and the last one being whether the objective should be pursued. These three qualities show us how the same capacities that can yield extraordinary achievements can also be the ones that cause the opposite, creating a lot of damage. Even so, it poses the question: can extraordinary ability be recognised independently of the morality of its exercise?

Ulysses’ abilities to persuade his comrades are not only seen in myths and fables; they are also present in modern-day affairs such as politics. Eloquence, charisma, leadership, and persuasive abilities are fundamental to being successful in politics. For instance, research conducted by Daniel J. Benjamin and Jesse M. Shapiro found that participants’ rapid judgements after viewing ten-second silent clips of gubernatorial debates predicted electoral outcomes significantly better than chance, with these judgements appearing to rely substantially on candidates’ personal attributes rather than their policy positions.³ Therefore, it could be agreed upon that these qualities describe what a leader—in our case, Ulysses—is capable of doing, not whether what they do is morally right. Even so, a leader can be highly effective at leading a team towards defending an immoral objective. Nonetheless, we must differentiate between the recognition of an ability and the moral approbation of the agent. For instance, it can be objectively recognised that Ulysses was effective at persuading the crew to join the voyage, thus proving he had exceptional persuasive skills. A descriptive judgement would argue so, yet a normative judgement would argue against it, as it should not have been done in the first place. The answer may seem simple if we were talking about other fields; however, politics adds a layer of complexity to this dilemma. Unlike other fields, politicians and their decisions affect human lives, institutions, justice, and rights, among others. This begs the question of whether political genius can be simply conceived as the ability to achieve political objectives, or whether we should consider what those objectives are. Going back to the case study, we could see how Ulysses possessed extraordinary persuasive and strategic abilities; while not having had noble intentions, he achieved his immediate objective of persuading his companions. However, before determining whether political genius can be separated from moral character, it is first necessary to determine what the term 'political genius' actually means.

First, to define what political genius means, we shall start by questioning the term itself. Over the years, the term has been widely associated with the possession of power. However, we must question whether this statement is true, as it can also mean keeping power, governing effectively, transforming a country, or even creating something that survives the leader. In order to explore what true political genius means, we shall divide it into five analytical dimensions: acquisition, preservation, governance, transformation, and legacy.

To commence, we must see it acquisition-wise, which denotes the formal procurement of legitimate or de facto executive authority within a state. Some may argue that this is one of the most important traits. This includes coalition-building, understanding public sentiment, and outmanoeuvring rivals or even defeating them. Likewise, another important aspect to take into account is preservation, which entails the stabilisation and consolidation of constitutional control over institutional structures, including managing the opposition, responding to threats, and forming alliances. This is crucial because, even though some governors may be highly effective at acquiring power, they may lack the skills to preserve it. Furthermore, we must examine governance, which represents the authoritative allocation of values and the systemic administration of public policy through legal structures. This is extremely important, as a genius at acquiring power may not be the same as a genius at governing. The last two dimensions are transformation, defined as the execution of structural modifications within the institutional framework, and legacy, which is the institutional durability and historical permanence of a regime’s systemic achievements after the executive tenure terminates.

These distinctions are crucial in order to assess whether a leader could be defined as a political genius. For instance, Adolf Hitler demonstrated considerable tactical ability in acquiring and consolidating power through political mobilisation, propaganda, and the exploitation of existing political and economic instability.⁴ Yet the Nazi dictatorship developed overlapping and competing structures of authority, with officials increasingly “working towards the Führer”, contributing to a highly personalised and radicalising system of rule.⁵ Its ultimate legacy was catastrophic: genocidal mass murder, a devastating European war, the destruction of the Nazi regime, and a defeated and devastated Germany.⁶ Political genius may therefore be better understood as a collection of distinct political capacities rather than a single quality.

However, these five dimensions only help us assess how capable a politician is; they do not necessarily tell us whether he is morally good. In theory, there could be a leader who had all five dimensions covered but pursued deeply immoral objectives. This raises the following question: if political genius can be measured through these capacities, where, if anywhere, does moral character enter the definition? To answer this question, we must differentiate between political effectiveness, defined here as the instrumental capacity to achieve a specific tactical objective; political genius, which represents the demonstration of exceptional systemic capacity across the dimensions of power; and political greatness, which denotes a higher order of statesmanship that fundamentally integrates institutional mastery with an enduring moral purpose. These three definitions constitute the analytical framework used in this essay. This distinction among these three facets of politics will allow us to evaluate and may determine whether morality can be truly separated from political excellence.

Even so, to continue, we must define the term moral character, this not referring to a politician being or not being a good person, but to it referring specifically to moral character in the exercise of political power. In this sense, moral character may be defined as the ends that a leader considers legitimate, their willingness to employ violence or coercion, and the moral limits they recognise in the exercise of power. The relationship between moral character, practical judgement, and the ends towards which action is directed has a long philosophical foundation, particularly in Aristotle’s account of virtue and practical wisdom in the Nicomachean Ethics.⁷ The main distinction we ought to establish is that while political ability refers to what a leader is capable of doing, moral character refers to what they believe they ought to do.

Similarly, these two variables—political ability and moral character—could be seen as a two-axis problem where they would be independent of one another, thus creating two independent dimensions. Theoretically, these could allow for a political figure with exceptionally high political abilities but a flawed moral character. If we were to suppose that this combination was possible, this would then imply that political genius and moral character must be at least partially separable. Therefore, we could recognise someone’s exceptional abilities while condemning their conduct; going back to Ulysses, this would mean that his extraordinary abilities could be recognised as such without requiring moral admiration of the way in which he exercised them.⁸

However, recognition doesn’t necessarily imply approbation. While we may recognise his skills, we may condemn him as well, yet this leads us to question whether moral failure diminishes political ability itself or just our moral judgement of the person in possession of it.

In contrast, one could challenge the idea of the two-axis approach, arguing that a person’s moral character—specifically, their moral qualities—has a direct political effect, this meaning that they wouldn’t be fully independent of one another. Research on political trust and legitimacy supports this possibility. Levi and Stoker’s examination of political trust and trustworthiness demonstrates the importance of perceptions of the trustworthiness of political actors and institutions.⁹ Grimes further demonstrates a relationship between procedural fairness, political trust, and compliance,¹⁰ while Tyler argues that legitimacy can encourage voluntary acceptance of political authority and thereby contribute to the effectiveness of institutions.¹¹ More recent experimental evidence across five countries has also found that perceived benevolence, integrity, and competence significantly influence judgements of government trustworthiness.¹² Thus, integrity can create trust, fairness can strengthen legitimacy, and other noble acts can help govern with efficacy, suggesting that moral character may no longer be merely an external standard used to measure political performance.

This leads us to ask whether moral character is a standard by which political greatness is judged or if it is one of the prerequisites of political greatness. If we return to the three distinctions of political genius that we made earlier, we could argue that while moral character doesn’t necessarily affect the most instrumental aspects of this “political genius”, such as political effectiveness, it may affect political greatness. Perhaps, while effectiveness can be morally neutral, greatness cannot.

However, could it be possible to evaluate political effectiveness independently of conventional moral principles? This is where we introduce our second case study: Niccolò Machiavelli and one of his masterpieces, The Prince. The Prince has been one of the most influential pieces of work of the millennium, attracting the attention of major political figures across different periods, including Benito Mussolini, who explicitly engaged with Machiavelli’s political thought in his writings.¹³ It shows a side of politics where Machiavelli is more interested in how politics actually works rather than how politicians ought to behave. In The Prince, specifically in Chapter XV, he introduces the verità effettuale, commonly known as the “effectual truth.”¹⁴ This refers to how politics should be judged by real-world results and human resources; in a world where most politicians do not follow moral principles, a leader must leave them aside to survive.

This immediately contrasts with the assumption that, in order to be an effective ruler, one must be morally virtuous. Therefore, this raises the question of whether the qualities one must have to be morally admirable are the same ones that apply to being politically effective.

Even so, going back to Machiavelli, he formally introduces verità effettuale in The Prince, particularly in Chapter XV. Here, Machiavelli makes the distinction between politics as we imagine it ought to operate—often idealised where morality is the backbone of society—and politics as it actually operates in the real world, which often features politicians with a lack of moral principles. As he stated, one ought to see the verità effettuale della cosa, or the effectual truth of the matter.¹⁵ Machiavelli does not argue that morality is irrelevant—that would be a very simplistic approach to his work—however, he questions whether conventional morality is an adequate standard for judging political competence.¹⁶

For instance, during the reign of a monarch, they will have to operate in several difficult circumstances, including conflicts, deception from allies, and even threats of being overthrown. This is where Machiavelli asks whether a ruler should be judged on the morality of their actions, the effectiveness of them, or both, as these high-stakes decisions oftentimes involve death and even the strategic sacrifice of troops. This can be seen in Machiavelli’s account of Cesare Borgia, Duke of Valentinois, who entrusted Remirro de Orco with imposing order in the previously unstable Romagna through severe measures before having him executed and his body publicly displayed in Cesena. Machiavelli presents this calculated act as a means through which Borgia distanced himself from Remirro’s cruelty while simultaneously satisfying and astonishing the population.¹⁷

Moreover, Machiavelli sets his own rules to describe a politician, defining this quality as virtù—more specifically, Machiavellian virtù. A key distinction is that Machiavellian virtù does not equal conventional virtue. Instead, virtù involves the abilities that a ruler possesses in order to address different situations and come out successful; these include strategic intelligence, decisiveness, adaptability, courage, and the capacity to act, among several others.¹⁸ Machiavellian virtù links to the framework set earlier about the five dimensions of political greatness, specifically to acquisition, preservation, and governance. Furthermore, if virtù describes exceptional political ability instead of great moral character, does Machiavelli provide a conceptual definition of political greatness that completely excludes morality?

Even so, in The Prince, he introduces fortuna (fortune), which refers to the luck or chance a leader faces while ruling. He argues that in a ruler's life, one cannot control chance, contingency, unpredictable circumstances, or sudden changes in political conditions.¹⁹ Since one cannot control these events, he adds the concept of adaptability as a requirement to be a successful ruler. As he implied, what distinguishes the exceptional political actor is his ability to recognise a problem, quickly adapt, respond to said problem, and then exploit it to his benefit.²⁰

This raises the following question, moving from our previous definitions of political greatness: is political greatness not only the possession of a set of abilities but also the ability to know when to use them? One may have these key abilities and still fail because of wrong timing. A ruler might possess all these virtues, or even Machiavellian virtù, yet if he fails to apply them at the right moment, he may fail as a politician. Here, we can see how a conflict develops between the moral consistency of a ruler and their political adaptability. Could moral consistency become a weakness if circumstances change and the ruler is required to take a different, harsher form of action?

Machiavelli's answer to this question appears in one of the most controversial arguments of The Prince: a ruler must learn “how not to be good.”²¹ This does not mean that Machiavelli simply advocates immorality. Rather, he argues that a ruler who is incapable of departing from conventional morality may be unable to respond effectively to exceptional circumstances.²² We would therefore need to ask whether the morally preferable decision can sometimes produce the politically worse outcome. Likewise, could an action simultaneously constitute a moral failure and an act of political competence?

For instance, imagine that a ruler knows that a rebellion is forming and believes that it will lead to civil war. He could refuse coercion in order to preserve his moral principles, while risking a wider conflict, or employ limited coercion in an attempt to prevent it. This hypothetical does not establish which choice is morally justified; instead, it exposes the tension between moral restraint and political responsibility. Would choosing coercion make the ruler less moral, more politically competent, or both?

This tension is closely related to Machiavelli's broader emphasis on political necessity and on the ruler's capacity to vary his conduct as circumstances require.²² Yet the argument has a crucial weakness: who determines what is politically necessary? A ruler could invoke necessity to justify censorship, repression, violence, deception, and other extraordinary measures. The preservation of the state should not be confused with the preservation of the ruler, since a leader may present actions that protect his own position as though they were required for the survival of the political community.

The paradox we are left with is therefore clear: moral rigidity can undermine political effectiveness, but unlimited moral flexibility can undermine the political community itself. Returning to our three categories, Machiavelli provides strong evidence that political effectiveness can be separated from conventional morality, but political greatness remains unresolved. He therefore offers a compelling argument for separating political effectiveness from conventional moral virtue, but not necessarily for separating morality from political greatness itself.

As we have seen, there is a dilemma between doing what is morally right and acting in a politically effective manner. This raises the following question: if political leaders must sometimes compromise conventional moral principles in order to govern effectively, does political responsibility require them to abandon morality as a whole or merely to approach it differently?

This is where we move away from Machiavelli and introduce Max Weber's 1919 lecture Politics as a Vocation. Weber distinguishes between an ethic of conviction (Gesinnungsethik) and an ethic of responsibility (Verantwortungsethik).²³ An ethic of conviction emphasises fidelity to one's ultimate values, whereas an ethic of responsibility requires the political actor to confront the foreseeable consequences of action. Weber does not ultimately treat the two as simple alternatives; rather, his mature political ethic requires a difficult combination of conviction and responsibility.²⁴ This presents us with the following dilemma: can a political leader be considered morally admirable if an uncompromising adherence to principle foreseeably causes greater suffering?

The ethic of responsibility therefore requires the politician to consider the consequences for which he can reasonably be held accountable. This does not mean that whichever action produces the best outcome automatically becomes morally right. Instead, it means that political actors cannot judge themselves solely by the purity of their intentions.²³ This gives us a new dimension in which we must distinguish between good intentions and good political judgement, since the two do not necessarily coincide.

To develop this distinction further, we should consider the “dirty hands” dilemma. In political philosophy, the problem asks whether a political actor may sometimes be required to commit a morally wrong act in order to prevent a greater political evil, while nevertheless remaining morally responsible for having committed that act. Michael Walzer's influential formulation of the problem emphasises precisely this continuing moral cost.²⁵ A politician might preserve his moral innocence by refusing to act and thereby allow a catastrophe to occur or act in a morally compromised way to prevent it. The dilemma is difficult because political necessity does not simply erase the moral wrong: the politician may remain responsible for the action even when it was undertaken to avoid a worse outcome.

This further develops the Machiavellian problem with which we started. The question is no longer simply whether political effectiveness can be separated from morality, but whether political greatness might sometimes require a ruler to assume moral responsibility for compromised or morally questionable decisions. Political responsibility may therefore involve accepting moral costs for the sake of the political community without pretending that those costs cease to be moral costs.

To conclude this section, the relationship between Machiavelli and Weber is more nuanced than a simple opposition. Machiavelli insists that an effective ruler must be capable of departing from conventional goodness when circumstances require it, while Weber insists that political action must remain connected to responsibility for its consequences.²² ²⁴ Political responsibility may therefore require moral compromise, but moral compromise does not eliminate moral accountability.

So far, we have discussed several ways in which theory can be applied. However, to fully resolve the question, Can Political Genius Be Separated from Moral Character?, we must also look at historical evidence. Throughout this essay, we have explained the five dimensions within which political genius falls: acquisition, preservation, governance, transformation, and legacy. Using these five dimensions, we can ask whether exceptional ability in some areas can compensate for catastrophic failure in others.

A prominent politician in this debate is Otto von Bismarck, who provides a powerful test of the separation between morality and political effectiveness. As Prussian minister-president and later the first chancellor of the German Empire, Bismarck played the central political role in German unification. Historian Jonathan Steinberg's Bismarck: A Life emphasises both his extraordinary political ability and the deeply coercive, domineering aspects of his character and rule.²⁶ This combination makes him especially useful for our question. If morally questionable methods coexist with exceptional and durable political achievements, should moral character alter our judgement of the political ability involved?

Another, far more extreme, test is Adolf Hitler. Hitler demonstrated specific tactical capacities in exploiting political and economic instability, mass mobilisation, propaganda, and the acquisition and consolidation of power.²⁷ However, applying the framework established earlier, success in acquisition and consolidation cannot by itself establish political greatness. Nazi rule developed a radicalising and highly personalised system of authority, while Hitler's leadership culminated in dictatorship, persecution, genocidal mass murder, a devastating European war, the destruction of the Nazi regime, and a defeated and devastated Germany.²⁸ Hitler therefore demonstrates that exceptional capacity in acquiring power does not amount to excellence in governing. If a politician displays unusual ability in acquiring power but ultimately leads the state he seeks to dominate towards devastation and destruction, what exactly are we calling “genius”?

These two historical figures lead to different conclusions. Bismarck supports the possibility of recognising political ability independently of moral approbation, while Hitler demonstrates why isolated political capacities cannot automatically amount to political greatness. Power is not government, and mobilisation is not statesmanship.

Returning to the theoretical aspect of the question, we should reconsider Aristotle and specifically what he calls phronesis, or practical wisdom. In Book VI of the Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle distinguishes phronesis from mere cleverness: cleverness can identify effective means to a given end, whereas practical wisdom is connected to sound deliberation about human goods and worthwhile ends.²⁹ Having made this distinction, we should ask: if political genius concerns only a politician's ability to achieve an objective, does the nature of the objective matter at all? If we answer "no", then exceptional effectiveness in pursuing a political objective could qualify as genius even when the objective itself is morally abhorrent. If we answer "yes", morality re-enters the definition, making political genius much more difficult to separate from moral character.

The previous cases are deliberately extreme. A more ambiguous example is Lee Kuan Yew, Singapore's first prime minister. His long tenure was associated with the construction of a highly capable state, rapid economic development, low corruption, and a strongly technocratic model of government. At the same time, his political system placed substantial restrictions on dissent, opposition, and individual liberties, leading many observers to characterise his model as paternalistic or “soft authoritarian.”³⁰

Here, the question is whether we can separate political genius from moral character if we cannot first agree on how moral character itself should be judged. A consequentialist framework might place greater weight on the prosperity, stability, and state capacity achieved under Lee, whereas a deontological framework would place greater weight on whether political methods respected duties, rights, and constraints irrespective of beneficial consequences. This does not mean that consequentialism automatically justifies every restriction or that deontology ignores consequences entirely; rather, the two frameworks assign different moral significance to outcomes and constraints. Lee's case therefore complicates the evaluation of moral character because the judgement can vary according to the ethical framework being applied.

Nelson Mandela provides a different kind of case. His presidency after South Africa's first democratic elections focused heavily on nation-building and reconciliation, and his political authority became closely associated with negotiation, restraint, and the attempt to overcome the divisions inherited from apartheid.³¹ The point is not to present Mandela as a flawless moral agent but to ask whether qualities normally treated as moral virtues can themselves become politically effective capacities. In Mandela's case, reconciliation was not merely symbolic: it was connected to the political task of establishing legitimacy for the new democratic order and reducing the danger of further conflict.³² His example therefore forces us to ask: what if moral character is not merely an external standard by which political genius is judged, but sometimes one of the very capacities through which political genius operates?

In conclusion, to answer the question Can Political Genius Be Separated from Moral Character?" after analysing several historical figures, political thinkers, and works of literature, I would answer yes—but only partially and only depending on what we mean by “political genius.” At the instrumental level, morality can be analytically separated from political ability. As Machiavelli suggests, and as the historical cases of Bismarck and Hitler demonstrate in very different ways, capacities such as persuasion, adaptation, mobilisation, and strategic judgement can be identified without morally approving of the purposes for which they are used. Recognition does not mean approbation.

In contrast, if we understand political genius in the stronger sense of statesmanship, morality becomes much harder to isolate. The ability to govern, exercise sound judgement, choose worthwhile ends, create legitimate institutions, assume responsibility for consequences, and produce durable political outcomes does not merely ask whether a politician achieved what he wanted. It also asks whether what he wanted was worth achieving, what achieving it required, and what kind of political community and legacy it left behind. This is where Aristotle, Weber, and Mandela become decisive, and where the importance of legacy is ultimately revealed. Political effectiveness can, at least analytically, exist independently of moral goodness; true political greatness, however, cannot be fully decoupled from moral responsibility.

 -Ignacio Charle

¹ Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy: Inferno, Purgatorio, Paradiso, trans. Allen Mandelbaum, intro. Eugenio Montale, notes Peter Armour (New York: Everyman’s Library, Alfred A. Knopf, 1995), Inferno, Canto XXVI. https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/229205/the-divine-comedy-by-dante-alighieri-translated-by-allen-mandelbaum-introduction-by-eugenio-montale-annotations-by-peter-armour/

² Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy: Inferno, Purgatorio, Paradiso, trans. Allen Mandelbaum, intro. Eugenio Montale, notes Peter Armour (New York: Everyman’s Library, Alfred A. Knopf, 1995), Inferno, Canto XXVI, lines 118–120. https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/229205/the-divine-comedy-by-dante-alighieri-translated-by-allen-mandelbaum-introduction-by-eugenio-montale-annotations-by-peter-armour/

³ Daniel J. Benjamin and Jesse M. Shapiro, “Thin-Slice Forecasts of Gubernatorial Elections,” The Review of Economics and Statistics 91, no. 3 (2009): 523–536. https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/20431718/

⁴ United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, “Adolf Hitler and the Nazi Rise to Power, 1918–1933,” Holocaust Encyclopedia, last edited June 23, 2025. https://encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/en/article/the-nazi-rise-to-power

⁵ Ian Kershaw, “‘Working Towards the Führer’: Reflections on the Nature of the Hitler Dictatorship,” Contemporary European History 2, no. 2 (1993): 103–118. https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/contemporary-european-history/article/working-towards-the-fuhrer-reflections-on-the-nature-of-the-hitler-dictatorship/AA188C6DBB8DAF4682A7093D5895A6C4

⁶ Ian Kershaw, Hitler: A Biography (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 2008). https://search.worldcat.org/title/Hitler-%3A-a-biography/oclc/227016324

⁷ Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics, trans. David Ross, rev. ed., ed. Lesley Brown (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009). https://www.oup.com.au/books/general-interest/humanities-social-sciences/9780199213610

⁸ Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy: Inferno, Purgatorio, Paradiso, trans. Allen Mandelbaum, intro. Eugenio Montale, notes Peter Armour (New York: Everyman’s Library, Alfred A. Knopf, 1995), Inferno, Canto XXVI. https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/229205/the-divine-comedy-by-dante-alighieri-translated-by-allen-mandelbaum-introduction-by-eugenio-montale-annotations-by-peter-armour/

⁹ Margaret Levi and Laura Stoker, “Political Trust and Trustworthiness,” Annual Review of Political Science 3 (2000): 475–507. https://www.annualreviews.org/content/journals/10.1146/annurev.polisci.3.1.475

¹⁰ Marcia Grimes, “Organizing Consent: The Role of Procedural Fairness in Political Trust and Compliance,” European Journal of Political Research 45, no. 2 (2006): 285–315. https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/j.1475-6765.2006.00299.x

¹¹ Tom R. Tyler, “Psychological Perspectives on Legitimacy and Legitimation,” Annual Review of Psychology 57 (2006): 375–400. https://www.annualreviews.org/content/journals/10.1146/annurev.psych.57.102904.190038

¹² Daniel Devine, Viktor Valgarðsson, Will Jennings, Gerry Stoker, and Hannah Bunting, “The Causes of Perceived Government Trustworthiness,” European Journal of Political Research 64, no. 3 (2025): 1394–1412. https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/1475-6765.12742

¹³ Benito Mussolini, “Preludio al Machiavelli,” Gerarchia 3, no. 4 (April 1924): 204–209; subsequently published in Niccolò Machiavelli, Il Principe, con il Preludio al Machiavelli di Benito Mussolini (Milan: Società Anonima Notari, 1928). https://www.treccani.it/enciclopedia/benito-mussolini_%28Enciclopedia-machiavelliana%29/

¹⁴ Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince, trans. and intro. Harvey C. Mansfield, 2nd ed. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998), chap. XV. https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/P/bo3615120.html

¹⁵ Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince, trans. and intro. Harvey C. Mansfield, 2nd ed. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998), chap. XV. https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/P/bo3615120.html

¹⁶ Cary J. Nederman, “Niccolò Machiavelli,” The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, ed. Edward N. Zalta and Uri Nodelman (Stanford, CA: Metaphysics Research Lab, Stanford University), substantive revision December 6, 2023. https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/machiavelli/

¹⁷ Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince, trans. and intro. Harvey C. Mansfield, 2nd ed. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998), chap. VII. https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/P/bo3615120.html

¹⁸ Cary J. Nederman, “Niccolò Machiavelli,” The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, ed. Edward N. Zalta and Uri Nodelman (Stanford, CA: Metaphysics Research Lab, Stanford University), substantive revision December 6, 2023. https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/machiavelli/

¹⁹ Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince, trans. and intro. Harvey C. Mansfield, 2nd ed. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998), chap. XXV. https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/P/bo3615120.html

²⁰ Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince, trans. and intro. Harvey C. Mansfield, 2nd ed. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998), chap. XXV. https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/P/bo3615120.html

²¹ Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince, trans. and intro. Harvey C. Mansfield, 2nd ed. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998), chap. XV, 61. https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/P/bo3615120.html

²² Cary J. Nederman, “Niccolò Machiavelli,” The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, ed. Edward N. Zalta and Uri Nodelman (Stanford, CA: Metaphysics Research Lab, Stanford University), substantive revision December 6, 2023, secs. 3–4. https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/machiavelli/

²³ Max Weber, “Politics as a Vocation,” in The Vocation Lectures: “Science as a Vocation”; “Politics as a Vocation”, ed. David Owen and Tracy B. Strong, trans. Rodney Livingstone (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 2004). https://hackettpublishing.com/the-vocation-lectures

²⁴ Sung Ho Kim, “Max Weber,” The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, sec. 6.3, “Conviction and Responsibility.” https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/weber/

²⁵ Michael Walzer, “Political Action: The Problem of Dirty Hands,” Philosophy & Public Affairs 2, no. 2 (Winter 1973): 160–180. https://www.jstor.org/stable/2265139

²⁶ Jonathan Steinberg, Bismarck: A Life (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011). https://search.worldcat.org/title/Bismarck-%3A-a-life/oclc/719369985

²⁷ United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, “Adolf Hitler and the Nazi Rise to Power, 1918–1933,” Holocaust Encyclopedia, last edited June 23, 2025. https://encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/en/article/the-nazi-rise-to-power

²⁸ Ian Kershaw, “‘Working Towards the Führer’: Reflections on the Nature of the Hitler Dictatorship,” Contemporary European History 2, no. 2 (1993): 103–118; Ian Kershaw, Hitler: A Biography (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 2008). https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/contemporary-european-history/article/working-towards-the-fuhrer-reflections-on-the-nature-of-the-hitler-dictatorship/AA188C6DBB8DAF4682A7093D5895A6C4

²⁹ Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics, trans. David Ross, rev. ed., ed. Lesley Brown (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), Book VI, especially chap. 12. https://www.oup.com.au/books/general-interest/humanities-social-sciences/9780199213610

³⁰ Council on Foreign Relations, “Singapore: A Small Asian Heavyweight,” updated April 16, 2020, section “Soft Authoritarianism.” https://www.cfr.org/backgrounders/singapore-small-asian-heavyweight

³¹ Nelson Mandela Foundation, “Discovering New Enemies: Post-1994,” The Life and Times of Nelson Mandela. https://www.nelsonmandela.org/discovering-new-enemies-post-1994

³² Nelson Mandela Foundation, “The Aim – The Methods,” The Presidential Years, sec. 11.1, “Reconciliation.” https://tpy.nelsonmandela.org/pages/part-iv-transformation/11-reconciliation/the-aim-the-methods