The Machiavellian Dichotomy

The Prince was published in 1532, five years after the death of its author Niccolò Machiavelli. Throughout the book, Machiavelli offers advice on how a leader (a prince) should rule over his empire.

In one of the passages, he writes:

“Upon this a question arises: whether it be better to be loved than feared or feared than loved? One should wish to be both, but, because it is difficult to unite them in one person, it is much safer to be feared than loved.”

He is right, it is difficult to be both loved and feared. But Machiavelli says that a ruler will find it easier to remain in power if they are feared rather than loved. And I have always disagreed with this.

We will now explore this topic through two prominent historical figures.

Alexander III of Macedonia was born in 356 BC and at age twenty succeeded his father on the thrown. He spent the rest of his life conquering.

Even today, some call him the most impressive military strategist of all time. At its height, his empire stretched from India in the east to the Greek isles in the west. Alexandria in Egypt, along with 19 other cities dotted across the globe, carry his name as a result of his triumph.

But world-altering success never led to any inner fulfillment. According to Dr. Armand D’Angour, Oxford professor of classics, Alexander was “a hard drinker” and had an “impulsive temper which on one occasion led him to kill his companion Cleitus”.

Yes, he once got drunk and killed an officer in the Macedonian army for slighting his honor. Alexander, by even the accounts of his own men, had erratic behavior.

One also cannot call Alexander modest. When he defeated the Persian armies of Darius III (200 years after Cyrus the Great founded the same empire), he took to wearing Persian garbs and having his men bow to him as was the contemporary Persian tradition.

These actions were met with resistance. Alexander’s men thought he was a sell out — so easily abandoning Macedonian culture and creating even greater distance between himself and his loyal soliders.

Perhaps more bizarre, Alexander began to think of himself as a (literal) divine figure. Not as someone with a royal bloodline but someone with a direct linage to Zeus himself. This theme comes up multiple times in his adulthood. As the years progressed, his visions became more grandiose.

There is also the tale that, near his campaign’s end, Alexander reflected on the size of his kingdom and wept. Some say he broke down in tears because there was “no more worlds to conquer” while others say he was distraught because there was so much left to conquer, but not enough time.

Either way, the Macedonian king was incontinent person. That is not to diminish what he did, but, rather, an attempt to understand how his soldiers and subjects must have felt.

Part of this incontinence can be attributed to the pace of Alexander. Even by today’s standard, his accession is unbelievable. All of the successes, stresses, and shortcomings mentioned above materialized over 12 short years.

He died at age 32 from illness. And to this day, internal conflict still haunts Alexander from Macedonia. His epitaph reads:

“A tomb now suffices him for whom the world was not enough.”

Cyrus II was born to King Cambyses I, ruler of Anshan, and Mandane, daughter of the king of Media, in 600 BC. Cyrus himself embodied the future of the region — a single leader presiding over a new, combined empire.

Cyrus learned to fight at a young age, and aged seventeen, he led troops into battle. First he fought to protect his uncle’s land from invaders. From there, he never really stopped.

Cyrus eventually ruled over Persia, Media, Lydia, and Babylon. (His sons would also one day rule over Egypt and other parts of Africa and Europe.) It is hard to imagine commanding such a vast, heterogenous group. But Cyrus was different than those who came before — and thrived in this environment.

At dinners, Cyrus sat alongside his soldiers and officers. He wore military attire, not royal robes. When he conquered a new land, he made a point to accept their traditions and deities into his culture. People worshipped openly and spoke their mother tongue freely. Even slaves who agreed to fight alongside Cyrus were freed once the battles had eventually stopped.

Cyrus the Great also had a special name for rulers whose “heads were heavy with gold” and did not fight alongside their men. He did not refer to them as kings and preferred, instead, to call them cowards. (Cyrus took the term leader seriously — he led his men into battle, from the front of his army.)

Notably, Cyrus the Great did not drink and distanced himself from all things he deemed to be vices. By the admission of one of his lords, Cyrus felt comfortable in “any nook in the world” and was more interested in “perfecting his soul” than collecting earthly possessions.

Despite being king of the largest empire of his era, Cyrus himself did not have much personal wealth. Rather, he relied on the wealth and influence of his friends to support his causes. This tradition lasted even into his old age.

And when news broke that Cyrus the Great had passed away, his followers were overwhelmed for two reasons. First, grief filled them; and second, worry crept in as they became uncertain of their future. They knew that someone could not simply replace him.

Lastly, we find ourselves at the resting place of Cyrus the Great. Although there is debate over the exact wording, we believe Cyrus’s epitaph read:

“O man, whoever thou art, from wheresoever thou cometh, for I know you shall come, I am Cyrus, who founded the Persian Empire. Grudge me not, therefore, this little earth [is all] that covers my body.”

There is much to say about Cyrus the Great and Alexander from Macedonia. Cyrus was born two centuries before Alexander, and thus has no notion of who the young Alexander would become.

But Alexander knew Cyrus. He read the biography of Cyrus the Great as a child and held the Persian in high regard. In fact, when Alexander learned that his men had desecrated the tomb of Cyrus the Great he ordered those men to be executed. (And, interestingly, it is because of the actions of these soliders that we do not know the inscription of Cyrus’s tomb.)

I will stop one step short of saying that Alexander was the ideal feared leader and that Cyrus was the ideal loved leader. Both men were complicated. And they were, beneath it all, two men who killed with their bare hands and led thousands more to die on the battlefield.

Rather, the point is to surface the difference between the two.

Alexander was certainly feared, but it is questionable if he was loved; Cyrus was nearly universally loved. Alexander himself adopted Persian customs; Cyrus let all his followers openly practice their customs. Alexander himself wept at his conquests; the followers of Cyrus wept at his passing.

The world itself was not big enough for Alexander from Macedonia; this small bit of Earth is all that belongs to Cyrus the Great.