Machiavellian Villains of History, Literature, and the Screen
Machiavellianism is the concept of doing whatever it takes to achieve a political goal regardless of ethics or morality. The term was coined after Italian political theorist and philosopher, Niccolo Machiavelli. He wrote about this method of achieving power in his 16th Century work: The Prince. It is where the cultural and literary archetype of a ‘Machiavellian villain’ is formed from.
| Title Page of a 1550 Edition of Il Principe di Nicolo Machiavelli |
This list uses examples of Machiavellian figures from history, literature, and the screen to explore the different ways in which Machiavelli’s concept manifests. Some are more emotionally manipulative and deceitful, some are more upfront and ruthless, but all are selfish.
Cesare Borgia
Profile Portrait in the Palazzo Venezia Rome
An inspiration and key case study for Machiavelli in The
Prince was Cesare Borgia, a cardinal and member of the infamous House of
Borgia as son of Pope Alexanda VI. Machiavelli spent several months at court
with Borgia and observed his brutal cunning. Machiavelli praised Borgia’s violent
military campaigns and his purging of conspirators; he’d lure enemies to their
assassinations through false pretences. Despite Machiavelli’s admiration of
Borgia’s methods in gaining power through much of Italy, he believed he could
have gone even further as Borgia did eventually lose the state.
Iago in Othello
Castle Rock Entertainment, Othello 1995
Perhaps the first example people think of when they hear the
term ‘Machiavellian villain’ is Iago from Shakespeare’s Othello. His spiteful
asides that allow audiences an insight into his plotting exemplify the thought
process behind such a cunning figure.
Iago single-handedly creates chaos and pain as a way to
satisfy his thirst for control. He deceives Othello by praying on his
insecurity as an outsider to his court and makes himself appear invaluable to
him, making Othello paranoid of all others around him. This is especially true
with Desdemona, whose genuine love for Othello threatens Iago’s monopoly over his
trust.
When Cassio is promoted above Iago’s station, he pivots his
plans in removing Desdemona to include Cassio in staging a scene that appears
to be an affair between the two in front of Othello. Two birds, one stone! The
ability to chop and change a plot when necessary is a Machiavellian trait.
What adds some depth to his motivations of power, revenge,
chaos, and control, is the often-debated view that Iago has a homoerotic
obsession with Othello, hence his particular cruelty towards Desdemona and
other women in the play. Shakespeare definitely uses intimate language in
scenes between Iago and Othello. I think these are the best types of literary
Machiavellian characters: the ones whose quests for power overlap (often
unbeknownst to themselves) with their own emotional needs in personal
relationships, needs they try so hard to repress in favour of their grand
plans. The dual – slash, murky – motivation is always fascinating.
John Dudley, 1st Duke of Northumberland
| Posthumous Portrait of John Dudley 1st Duke of Northumberland 1607 |
John Dudley was prominently powerful in England in the time
of Machiavelli’s political writings so people tend to analyse him through this
lens. His background saw him be ruthless and intimidating in collecting money
for his debts and he managed to build an estate for himself including Dudley
Castle through both legitimate and shady means. He became leader of the Navy to
Henry VIII and brutally quelled rebellions.
Where his Machiavellianism really kicked in though, was at
the end of Edward VI’s reign…
John Dudley led the young King Edward VI’s government after
Henry VIII died. When Edward fell ill, there was a succession problem. Edward
was very Protestant and did not want to give the crown to next in line, Mary, a
Catholic. Equally, it would’ve been unwise to crown his other sister the Protestant
Elizabeth: Henry VIII never repealed either of his daughters’ illegitimacy
statuses after their mothers were named traitors, one divorced, one beheaded (despite
restoring them as royals). Therefore, Edward could not be seen denying Mary then
crowning Elizabeth.
The King named Protestant cousin once removed, Lady Jane
Grey, as his successor instead of either of his sisters. How heavily that
decision was influenced by his advisors and councillors is not known for
certain but John Dudley wasted no time marrying his son, Guilford Dudley, to
Jane swiftly before Edward officially named her heir. Members of the Privy
Council agreed that Jane should be named Queen and those that didn’t were
bullied into it by Dudley.
Dudley obviously saw an opportunity to insert his own blood
on the throne and his influential relationship with Edward VI helped with this
plot. He was a man who took full advantage of the crown’s instability for his
own ends after carefully working his way up the highest seats of power in Tudor
England all his life. Unfortunately for him, public support for Mary’s far more
direct claim was too large. John Dudley was betrayed by his fellow councillors and
named a traitor when Mary I beheaded Jane and became Queen. He was nicknamed
the ‘wicked Duke’.
Malcolm Tucker in The Thick of It
Of course, in a satirical comedy of politics and power, Machiavellianism
is explored. Malcolm Tucker is a Whip, a literal professional spin doctor. He is
paid to manipulate the truth for the government’s gain, but of course being so
good at it means he prioritises that gift for himself first. We watch him
puppeteer people and situations every episode. His colleagues are afraid of his
successful track record, anger, biting tongue, leverage, and intimidating
influence.
His allyship with the young political advisor Ollie develops over time. Tucker sees a budding ‘will do anything to achieve for himself’ in him and he nurtures and encourages that not only by example but by implicating Ollie, against his will, in his lies. It’s a personality trait that can get you far in politics. Ollie is Tucker’s unofficial apprentice. This relationship benefits them both for a very long time. Ollie’s eventual betrayal is everything Tucker taught him so he is proud but devasted that the student became the master and ruined his only true love in life, his career.
Larys Strong in House of the Dragon
Several characters from the Game of Thrones universe fit the
Machiavellian model. Otto Hightower is one. However, whilst extremely
Machiavellian in orchestrating a usurpation, by the time Otto’s family was in
power he was unable to adjust his manipulations to fit his grandson King Aegon
who required a different language of persuasion than Otto was used to. Otto lost
his influence as a result. He also planned to maintain control and peace in the
Realm through appeasing the ‘smallfolk’, however, this goes against a key characteristic
of Machiavellianism: the relentless pursuit of war and continuous expansion of
power.
Larys on the other hand played an even longer game than Otto
did with the goal to expand his individual power. Larys as a character is a
master of manipulation and swooped into King Aegon’s ear the moment Otto fumbled.
Even before that – when Larys recognised Otto was planning to usurp the throne after
he made his teenage daughter, Alicent, Queen through marriage – Larys befriended
Alicent as his key to power. This pulled Queen Alicent’s confidence away from Otto,
her oppressive father and placed it in Larys, her much-needed and refreshing new
ally.
Those familiar with Game of Thrones may ask why I
haven’t picked Petyr Baelish as an example of Machiavellianism as Larys has
been compared to Petyr Baelish and they are extremely similar. Both characters
are textbook Machiavellian in model but I’m focussing on Larys because his motivations
are more complex in my opinion. He is angry at the world for ignoring and
mistreating him because of his clubfoot so power is more about revenge for him.
Furthermore, Larys’ originally strategic friendship with Alicent turned into an
obsession which was never part of his plan. Larys is a sadist that hurts and
betrays Alicent to get to the top, yet he still wants to be close to her and
know everything she thinks or does. This is especially true when Alicent uses
and betrays him too in retaliation. Larys is unwillingly attracted to Alicent because
he recognises their ‘similarities’: they play the same game, they have a unique
understanding of politics, and they are both outsiders of the Targaryen dynasty.
This is why I’d argue Larys is the most Machiavellian type
in the Game of Thrones universe. He is similar to Iago from Othello in my
opinion. His motivations for power are both to serve revenge against a world
that has done him wrong, and to serve his possession of the only person he’s
felt closeness to. He isn’t pursuing just one goal in his climb to the top. It
is also important to consider that Larys quite skilfully hijacked Otto’s own
Machiavellian foundations, gradually cut Otto out, and built his own influence
over the council, Queen Alicent, and King Aegon from it.
Even Larys is not without his weaknesses though. He
underestimates others. Alicent is the only person privy to Larys’ truest colours,
therefore she figures out how to carefully hide her own secret plot from him
and his network of spies that follow her everywhere. Thus, I think Larys
potentially foreshadowed his own downfall in Season 1 when he (ever so
Machiavellianly) tells Alicent – the only human object of his obsessions –
‘Love is a weakness’.
Roy Cohn
This pick feels a little too relevant at the time of writing
as Cohn is credited as the ‘mentor’ and ‘creator’ of none other than the former
and now re-elected US President, Donald Trump. He certainly provided Trump with
the means and strategies of gaining and maintaining power that are painfully
evident in Trump’s leadership style today. Cohn is as real-world Machiavellian
as it gets. I won’t have to explain why because the extremely pertinent history
speaks for itself…
Roy Cohn was a lawyer notorious for manipulating his cases with
his well-kept archives of private conversation tapes and blackmail material. He
rose to provenance in the 1950s after his involvement in the Rosenberg Trials. The
Rosenberg’s were convicted as Soviet spies but only received capital punishment
because of Cohn’s personal interference with the Judge’s ruling.
Cohn’s performance in this trial saw him hired by Senator Joseph
McCarthy in the era of the Red Scare: a period of escalated intolerance towards
communism in America, along with anything else that did not fit the ‘White
Anglo-Saxon Protestant’ ideal. Cohn’s position as Chief Counsel to McCarthy oversaw
the systemic implementation of this political and societal movement referred to
as the Red Scare and McCarthyism. It involved driving up paranoia through anti-communist
propaganda, publicising accusations that had little concern for evidence, and encouraging
Americans to report their peers and families.
Parallel to the Red Scare, and indeed a large subsection
under its umbrella, was the Lavender Scare. The Lavender Scare was a focus on
rooting out homosexuals in society but especially in the military and
government. Roy Cohn personally hunted and prosecuted men working in
governmental branches suspected of being homosexual despite Cohn being a gay
man himself.
In 1973, Roy Cohn met a young Donald Trump when representing
him in a racial discrimination case. The Trumps were accused of discriminating against
people of colour from renting in their properties. Cohn constructed an
aggressive defence, filing a countersue of 100 million dollars and going so far
as to stage a news conference. Cohn remained Trump’s lawyer for many years
after, helping Trump dodge justice, grow his businesses, and secure more money
and power in the process. Of course he benefitted from this relationship
significantly.
Cohn taught Trump his three rules: ‘1. Attack! Attack!
Attack! 2. Admit nothing and deny everything. 3. No matter what happens you
claim victory and never admit defeat.’
Like I said, very scary and unnervingly Machiavellian. So
much so Cohn’s ethics (or pathological lack there-of), approach, politics, and legacy
are engrained in the societal landscape of the US today and by the looks of
things, the future too.
‘Trump reportedly exclaimed ‘Where’s my Roy Cohn?’ when Attorney
General Jeff Sessions recused himself from election interference investigations’
- (The Mueller Investigation 2017-2019).
A key theme emerging in this list is the Machiavellian tends to be behind the scenes pulling the strings, or perhaps more accurately put, adjacent to the figure-head of power whispering in their ear. They don’t care for the credit as much as they care for the control and like to have someone to take the fall as the face of their conniving work. This way it is easier to regroup, reposition, and rebirth their power over someone else. Naturally, the Machiavellian tends to be a close advisor, a second in command, a sidekick, a wife (I will write about women and Machiavellianism separately), or just generally a trusted ‘friend’ in any form, to the seen: Kings, Queens, Presidents, Emperors, the popular and the like.
| Niccolo Machiavelli statue, Florence, Italy. Gordan Bogicevic / Alamy |
It is also fun to explore (in the fictional stories) where
these characters’ commitment to Machiavellianism, unexpectedly to them,
intersects with any emotional needs that they repress in their pursuit of
power. They tend to suffer loneliness as much as they could never admit it to
themselves. God forbid someone comes along that they can identify with in some
capacity. A toxic obsession over this person is often formed – the
Machiavellian uses them in their pursuit of power but at the same time wants to
be needed by that person. They want to feel needed by that person. A
conflict of aims is formed out of this and it is incredible to watch this
conflict in a character that claims to be immune to such distracting emotional
dilemmas (or weaknesses as they’d consider them) and incredible but chilling
to watch the lengths they’ll go to, to achieve both in one plan.

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