Nowhere has this farce been more common than in the German states of the last one hundred years. Guildsmen fought against merchants, peasants against lords, weavers and miners against merchants, until, with a sudden explosion, the Peasant wars erupted, leaving behind the rule of dictators throughout the German region. The chaos created by the economic discontent did naught but return the old rulers to power with even greater control than before. Natural depletion was ill-suited to send the state in a new direction.
As foreign military threat is difficult to control and equally difficult to cause, so, too, is foreign blockade. If any have been foolish enough to encourage a threat from abroad so that they might reap the benefits such chaos allows, they are indeed the worst sorts of fools, for there is little room for sweeping change once the blockade serves its end. Too often the besieged turn with sunken cheeks to their vanquishers, happy to accept any rule that promises bread. The few who have led the starving mob may insist that all choose death rather than submission. But men are inclined more by their stomachs than by honor or loyalty. The only change such action breeds is the rule of conquerors. And for those who ally themselves with the new rulers, they have only to look to history to see the fate of such traitors.
We are left with one choice: designed ill-use. Leaders cannot wait for a natural decline in trade and commerce to cause a panic; nor should they place their fate in the hands of a foreigner or an enemy. Instead, they must choose one area within the world of buying and selling that is susceptible to severe disturbance. Do not be fooled that this action must be of the most drastic sort. Those who wish to cause mayhem need not burn all the grain, nor ravage all the land. All they need provoke is one event that will shake the confidence of the people; one area where a sudden change will cause the crowd to doubt the security of all. This has happened more by fault than design throughout history, but the lesson is the same.
We may look to Milan for illustration. When a certain duke of that fair city, a devotee of the Guelfs (I shall spare his memory the indignity of giving his name), secretly ordered one of his own ships to be sunk, for fear that both friends and enemies would discover his mistress, a woman of the Ghibellines, to be on board, he mistakenly sent a vast quantity of wool and silk to the bottom with her. The duke’s actions may have prevented a nasty dispute between the two warring factions, but he created far more trouble by arousing the wrath of the merchants and weavers than if he had let the ship reach port. The silk and cloth manufacturers feared that their losses from the downed shipment would send their entire trades into ruin. Without goods or payment, they reasoned, how could they hope to continue? To limit the damage, they thought it wise to shut down almost half the shops throughout the city. The people, quick to take fright, concluded that the trouble would soon spread to all other areas of commerce. The ensuing panic forced the duke to offer large privileges to members of every guild, draining his coffers, and weakening his position with the Ghibellines. And all because of one small ship and a few rolls of silk and wool!
The duke had no intent to cause such alarm, but the lesson is clear: Those who willingly cause such mayhem can reap the greatest rewards, for they control when and how such eruptions occur, and they are able to anticipate the people’s response. The Overseer, together with the Prefect of the economic realm, must therefore determine a single area within trade and commerce that can bring the same response as the wool and silk trade in Milan. As the demagogue must read the hearts of men, so this Prefect must understand the natural vicissitudes of economy, using that knowledge to master one small area of trade. And like the demagogue, this Prefect will need years of experience and training to make this decision. Thus, while the demagogue gathers his followers, so the economist (again, a word of my own making) establishes himself within the most powerful circles of commerce. When the moment is right—that is, when the moment meets the demands of the other realms—it will not be difficult to send the state into economic panic.
XII. THE ROAD TO SOCIAL CHAOS
But what of the social realm? How might a Prefect create havoc there? The few examples I have been able to collect from history lie entirely on the side of fortune (or God’s will), and have nothing to do with the plans of men. Certainly none but the Almighty rains pestilence and plague upon humanity, and no matter how clever and wise men become in the ways of disease and death, it is unlikely that they will ever seek to create such afflictions. Yet there is a subtler way to prepare the social ground for a new state; a way that calls for drastic change and thus might well be likened to a sort of chaos.
I have explained that this realm finds its base in education: to control education is to hold the social realm in one’s hands. Thus, the change must occur within the halls of learning. It follows that, for this change to have any influence over the populace, the educational institution that imparts its message must be widespread. Unfortunately, we must admit that at this moment no such institution exists.
Unless we look to the most holy Catholic Church as a beacon of learning. Within its sacred walls, men’s hearts may be altered, directed, and encouraged to reshape the world. Were it not for the mighty institution that emanates from Rome, it would take decades, if not centuries, to set in place a means to touch so many hearts and minds. And within those halls, an upheaval of sorts must take place. The Church must expand its vision so that it may guide men not only toward eternal salvation but also toward an enduring state here on earth. I would not be so forthright, nor would I risk the brand of impiety, were there no other institution so well suited to the demands of longevity and stability. Perhaps in days to come, some such educational institution may arise to release the Church from this heavy burden. Until that day, however, Rome must take up the reins and lead with an iron fist. Beat back the heretics and muster the strength of her faithful. To do so, she must revitalize her means of guiding the people and develop a new way of learning, a way to inspire passion and devotion to a well-dictated stability.
I do not speak without just cause. We need only look to any number of German states to understand the imminent peril. Already, a great danger has appeared in the form of a rebel priest, a man who strives to wrest authority from its rightful place. If a single man may turn the wills of so many to heresy, imagine the strength of the true Church to determine the actions of men.
It is well understood that the ways to Heaven and the ways to a stable state require separate instruction. Yet Rome must recognize that such instruction may come from the same source. It would be blasphemy to claim that the Church was meant to take as its mission the affairs of this world. But I do not make such a claim. Rather, I believe that a stable state in no way contravenes the higher end of eternal salvation and that the Church may counsel both without contradiction. The words of Aquinas, William of Occam, Duns Scotus, Peter Lombard—these schoolmen gave shape to this mission centuries ago. For them, reason and faith fight an eternal battle. Therefore the universities, Cathedral schools, and monasteries devoted themselves to questions surrounding that struggle; a struggle that continues today and that remains the test of men’s devotion to the Holy Spirit.
But now a new topic sits atop the table and demands equal consideration: power, whose own struggles test men’s resolve in the political and economic realms. One educator must, therefore, develop this new area of teaching and alter certain institutions within the Church. The care of the Spirit should remain in the hands of the larger Church. But reverence for political and economic expedience should become the domain of this new area. It should not be difficult to see how the educator may serve the Church at large without threat. Indeed, when men live secure in a stable and long-lasting earthly peace, they should have all the more passion to devote to the achievement of eternal bliss.
Is this, then, a call for chaos within the social realm? Will there come a moment when the Overseer counsels a sudden movement, a lightning action to topple the existing realm? No. It would be difficult to liken the change within the social realm to those require
d within the political and economic realms. The moment of upheaval here comes much earlier, at the very instant one man determines to take control of education in the name of supremacy. At its onset, this new venture will seem aberrant to those who take any notice of it. Yet they will dismiss it, see nothing in it to cause alarm, for it will appear to have limited influence. Much like the heretical sects that arise from time to time, the new schools will at first seem to pose no threat. Imagine the people’s surprise when, propelled into chaos by the political and economic realms, they see a small army of young men fully trained to take the state in an entirely new direction. Then these unenlightened ones will have no choice but to embrace the new way much in the way a drowning man reaches for a single piece of driftwood to escape the clutches of death.
XIII. HOW THE THREE REALMS TOGETHER CREATE CHAOS
Before describing how the three realms may work together to create chaos, I must insist that there may be no need to combine such upheavals. I have noted that panic in one realm is not likely to create the proper conditions from which to build a stable state. But there will be those rare occasions, those singular events that place leaders in a position of uncommon opportunity. Much like Messer Niccolò’s prince, these leaders will have fortune to thank for their circumstances. For those who sit well with fate (and who have prepared themselves within the three realms), they need only browse through the pages that follow, for they stand ready to build.
For those not so fortunate, we must recall that one or two of the realms may take the lead when instigating chaos. The social realm usually acts to stabilize, rather than to stir chaos. Yet all three must place their efforts together; otherwise, the singular act in one realm will prove fruitless to the well-being of the state in general. Before any action can be taken, therefore, all three Prefects must be in a position to rule the course of events within their own realms. Much of the preparation of these men will have occurred individually over a long period of tutelage, but the closer they come to the moment of eruption, the more they must act together with one another.
At that moment, it is best to begin with an economic upheaval, for men are most concerned with their own pockets and often lose their reason when property is at risk. To repeat: the upheaval need not be of vast proportions, but only sufficient to raise questions in the simple minds of the people. Once doubt is present, it will not be difficult for the demagogue to nurture that uncertainty among his followers, who will breed an indignant panic among the entire community. Why indignant? Because the demagogue will have taught his pupils to think ill of the current regime even during times of relative calm. Failures to appease factions within the state, failures to establish profitable trade with foreign states, failures to explore possibilities for expansion, failures to secure economic prosperity—these are but a few of the shortcomings that the demagogue will have brought to the people’s attention, and that will now serve to stir passions. Once they witness the economic upheaval, they will convince themselves and others that they have just cause to overturn the regime.
These failures, however, will not be sufficient on their own to cause a total abandonment of the prevailing polity. There must be an underlying affliction, of which such failures are merely the outward signs. And it will be around this canker that the demagogue musters his troops. The surest choice is moral decay. Nothing suits men’s instincts more than a sense of pious indignity. Let the demagogue paint all the ills of society as reflections of poor moral guidance by a regime incapable of setting men on the right course. The economic upheaval will thus appear as the final misdeed of a state mired in immoral deeds. How better to convince a grumbling crowd that the slate must be cleaned entirely than to call on its self-righteousness? Men are quick to praise their own sanctimony. Let them believe it best to cleanse the state so as to cleanse themselves. Chaos will become the welcome release from a general iniquity.
XIV. HOW TO BUILD FROM CHAOS
And where better to look for redemption than to the realm of education, which recognizes the worth of stability? Where better to wash away the decay than in a school wrapped in the arms of the Church? The people, if well directed, will eagerly abandon all that reminds them of their affliction, all that rests on faulty foundations, and rush to commend their collective fate into the hands of the Prefects. In that way, they will willingly venture into the unknown, but an unknown that seems firmly rooted in a commitment to virtuous and long-lasting governance. It is therefore vital that the institutions of schooling be in place; or if not in place entirely, then at least to a degree that will excite and appease the querulous mob. For the people will need a safe haven in which to stand as they watch their champions tear down the old institutions.
With the educational realm reshaped, the first task of a new state must be to rid itself of the most hardy elements from the previous regime. What I mean here is men. Reeling from the chaos, these enemies of the state will be in precarious positions, but it will be for the new leaders to make examples of them. Set them before the people as authors of the corruption and decay and let them, as goats to the desert, carry all the sins of the past to their graves. Much should be made of this cleansing so that all men may feel that they have had a hand in the resurrection of the state. Furthermore, such acts will encourage a self-restraint within the people as a whole.
To be sure, it is a worthy aim to instill fear in the hearts of men. Take heed, though. Excessive displays of brutality will raise fear to dangerous levels. Fear can be an elixir that, if meted out in proper doses, may rouse enthusiasm. But given in too large a quantity, it turns to dread, dread to rage, and rage to hatred. And, as Messer Niccolò counsels well, that sort of hatred is a beast without master. Power sits uneasy when hatred prowls the streets. Therefore, the Prefects must make certain that the cleansing process suits the circumstances of the day and feeds but a part of the vicious hunger of the mob. Their aggressive passion will always cry for more blood. But be warned. Do not sate this desire fully. Keep the people hungry. Such is the way to turn fear to excitement and aggression to fervor.
The story of Raphael Ormetti teaches well this lesson. Friedrich von Keslau, a man of extraordinary gifts in the ways of establishing new states, won control for a time of Hamburg, eliminating many of his enemies in the city, and hanging their bodies in the central square both to delight and frighten the people. Von Keslau could not have known that his actions would unleash a wild passion within the people who screamed for more blood. Soon the city was infested with roving bands of cutthroats. In order to regain control of these mad men of Hamburg, von Keslau sent Ormetti to the city so as to pacify the mob by whatever methods necessary. This Raphael was a man for whom cruelty was married to efficiency, and in a short time, he had brought the people to their knees. But cruelty has its limits, as von Keslau well knew. Not wanting to incur the hatred of his newly won people, and wanting no blame for the brutalities inflicted by Raphael, von Keslau sent a second emissary to dispose of Ormetti, whose body appeared one morning cut into separate pieces, each piece impaled on one of several spears directly in front of the castle of Adolph III. This act both won von Keslau praise as a savior and inspired in the people of Hamburg a healthy fear of their new master. Alas, his reign lasted only a few months, until Lbeck again regained control of the city, whereupon von Keslau’s body joined that of his brutal, if unfortunate, disciple.
Yet cleansing the state need not be a singular act. From time to time, as circumstances dictate, the political Prefect should find cause to eliminate other enemies, those who threaten the stable core of obedience and expansion that the three realms promote. There are several ways to determine who shall live and who shall die, but it is best if there is some reasonable cause for choosing victims. Acts of arbitrary will serve no useful end. Thus, he must light on a particular group that, whether in truth or not, poses a threat to the order of the state. Furthermore, the people must believe that this one group stands in the way of perfect stability. And the mob must grow to despise these
outcasts. The best choices would no doubt be members of certain religious sects or citizens of foreign nations who reside in the new state.
XV. WHY IT IS IMPORTANT TO CULTIVATE HATRED
Once again, Messer Niccolò fails to consider the animal passions that drive men’s souls. Leaders must assuredly avoid being hated by their people. But hatred, if directed properly, is a powerful tool for control of the people. To good effect, the Romans persecuted the Christians, the Greeks limited the freedom of all noncitizens, and many have taken the Jews as ready targets. Keep the people preoccupied with a common enemy, and their aggressive passions (served best by a pointed hatred) will strengthen the bonds of the state. The demagogue must, therefore, cultivate this malice within the people, a malice that best serves stability when it reflects the moral righteousness that prompts the first upheaval.
To build from chaos, then, it is vital to hold public gatherings, games, and festivals that ridicule and mistreat those selected for abuse. Such events are not foreign to men. The spectacle of lions tearing into the flesh of unarmed Christians, the pageantry of public executions, even the simple puppet shows in which the old Jew is beaten to death for his usury sate a basic human desire. Furthermore, they present vengeance in its most basic guise. That is, such shows are never more than what they appear to be. No hidden meaning lies below the surface; no complexity to confuse or agitate a people. In short, these gatherings and exhibitions cultivate a passion for simple answers, which, in turn, makes the people docile and unimaginative.
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