When Nietzsche Debates Modern War: Imagined Dialogues Across Centuries

In 2022, Germany reversed decades of foreign policy to send heavy weapons to Ukraine, a move that its leaders had long insisted was morally unthinkable. Last week, Admin, we left off with Nietzsche's argument that suffering is what forges strength. It makes you wonder if a leader who avoids inflicting necessary pain—on their enemies, or even on their own principles—is actually a weak leader, dooming their people to a greater suffering down the road. That is precisely the question. A leader, a prince, is not a priest. His job is not to save souls, but to save the state. And the state exists in a world of wolves. To act like a lamb is to invite the slaughter.

And there's our debate for today. Is strict adherence to moral principle a sign of strength in a leader? Or is it, as my guest might argue, a fatal weakness? My guest today needs little introduction, a Florentine diplomat and political thinker, Niccolò Machiavelli. A pleasure. Though I suspect you and I will not agree on the definition of "strength." For you, it seems to be about holding fast to ideals. For me, it is about holding fast to power. Because without power, your ideals are just... pleasant thoughts. I'd argue that power earned through immoral means is brittle. It's built on fear, not loyalty. It creates enemies who are waiting for you to stumble.

A leader who builds on a foundation of trust and principle is building on rock. Oh, trust is wonderful. So is peace. So is prosperity. A prince should desire all of these things. But he must be willing to abandon them in a moment if the survival of the state requires it. He must appear to be merciful, faithful, humane, and religious. But his mind must be prepared to do the opposite when necessity commands. Okay, but let's make this concrete. Imagine a modern leader. They learn that a terrorist leader responsible for multiple attacks is hiding in a house in a densely populated neighborhood. They can order a drone strike that will almost certainly eliminate him.

But it will also, uh, almost certainly kill a family living next door. What does the "strong" leader do? There is no choice. It is not even a question. The leader who hesitates has already failed. He is weighing the lives of a few strangers against the security of the thousands of citizens he is sworn to protect. The deaths of the innocents are regrettable, a tragedy. But the failure to act would be a dereliction of duty. It is a political, not a moral, calculation. I hear you, but that calculation is exactly the problem. Because that act doesn't happen in a vacuum. You create a dozen new enemies for every "enemy" you kill that way. The sons and brothers of that family you killed don't see a political calculation.

They see a monstrous injustice. You've just planted the seeds for the next generation of terrorists. You've traded a short-term victory for long-term instability. You are thinking like a philosopher. A leader must think about the immediate threat. Long-term stability is a luxury you can only afford after you have survived the night. If this terrorist is allowed to act, there may BE no long term for the citizens he murders tomorrow. The prince must deal with the world as it is, not as he wishes it were. And the world is a place where you must sometimes get your hands dirty to keep your people clean. But you're assuming the "dirty hands" approach works.

By breaking the rules of war, you give your enemies permission to do the same. You erode the very international laws and norms that, while imperfect, prevent a constant state of all-out war. You make the entire world more dangerous, including for your own people. International law? Norms? These are agreements of convenience. They are webs designed to catch the small flies, but the great hornets will always break through. Every leader knows this. They praise the law in public and they break it in private when their interests demand it. To pretend otherwise is, forgive me, naive. Alright, I'll give you that leaders are often hypocritical.

But the standard itself still matters. The aspiration matters. If we just accept that everyone will act in their worst self-interest, we guarantee a world of chaos. You guarantee a world of clarity. You see things as they are. You understand that your rival is not your friend, and that his promises are only good for as long as they benefit him. This is not chaos. This is realism. It allows you to prepare, to anticipate, and to act decisively. Okay, let's try a different scenario. A rising economic power offers your country a trade deal. It's immense. It will create a hundred thousand jobs and lower the cost of goods for everyone. A huge political win.

The catch is that this nation runs on forced labor. Their factories are essentially prisons. To get the deal, you must remain silent about their human rights abuses. You take the deal. Immediately. Without hesitation. Just like that? You would build your nation's prosperity on the backs of enslaved people? I would build my nation's prosperity. Full stop. The duty of the prince is to his own people. Their employment, their well-being, their strength. The condition of another ruler's subjects is that ruler's concern, not mine. To sacrifice your own people's good for the sake of a foreign population you cannot control is... madness. It is a betrayal of your office.

But that's not a strength! That's a moral and strategic blindness. You are funding a brutal regime. You are making your economy dependent on a state built on a foundation of sand. A state that uses such methods on its own people will not hesitate to use deception and coercion against you when the time is right. You've gained a fragile prosperity by sacrificing your integrity. Integrity is the currency of men who have nothing else to trade. A prince with a full treasury and a happy, employed populace has real power. He can afford to be magnanimous later. First, you secure your foundation. A hungry populace is a rebellious populace. An unemployed populace is a drain on the state.

You are asking a leader to choose an abstract principle over the concrete well-being of his citizens. No wise prince would ever make that choice. I think you're framing it wrong. The choice isn't between principles and well-being. It's between two different KINDS of well-being. One is short-term, materialistic, and built on a morally corrupt bargain that will eventually come due. The other is long-term, resilient, and built on sustainable, ethical partnerships. By choosing the first, you are hollowing out your nation's soul for a temporary gain. A nation's soul does not fill its grain silos. A nation's soul does not pay its armies. You speak of what is right.

I speak of what is necessary. A leader who cannot distinguish between the two will not be a leader for long. He will be a martyr. And martyrs are, by definition, failures. They lose. Wow. So any leader who chooses principle over power is a failure? Nelson Mandela, who chose reconciliation over retribution? Václav Havel, who chose truth over the comfort of the lie? You see them as failures? I see them as men whose circumstances were... unusual. Fortune smiled upon them. For every Mandela, there are a thousand well-intentioned idealists whose names are lost to history because their enemies were more ruthless. You cannot build a strategy for rule based on the exceptions.

You must build it on the rule. And the rule is that power respects power. Nothing else. So, for you, there's no action—no matter how cruel or deceitful—that is off the table if it serves the state? A wise prince knows that some vices are necessary for his survival. Cruelty, when used sparingly and decisively to prevent greater disorder, is a virtue. Deceit, when used against those who would deceive you, is simple prudence. The common people are impressed by appearances and results. If a prince wins and maintains his state, the means will always be judged honorable. I have to push back on that. That's an incredibly cynical view of people.

I think people do care about the means. They care about justice. They want to believe their leader is a good person. When they discover the deceit, the trust is shattered, often permanently. They may want to believe it. And the prince should let them. Let him cultivate an image of virtue. But he must never be chained by it. It is better to be feared than to be loved, if you cannot be both. Love is held by a chain of obligation which, since men are wretched creatures, is broken on every occasion that their own interests are at stake. But fear is held by a dread of punishment which never fails. So we're left with a choice, then. Not just for leaders, but for us, for the citizens.

What do we actually demand from them? Do we want leaders who reflect our highest ideals, even if it makes them less effective in a brutal world? Or do you want leaders who will do the hard, ugly things necessary to keep you safe and prosperous, even if you must look away while they do it? It seems the question isn't whether a leader can be both good and powerful. It's what we, the people, truly value more: the appearance of our virtue, or the reality of our security.