The Overseer (76 page)

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.

 

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.

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.

The rewards of this policy are many. First, it is always more beneficial to rally a people around a common aversion than around a common love. Men seek fellowship with those who share their aggression, and nothing serves that common desire more than a single enemy. No one would be foolish to claim that anything more than their loathing of French and Spanish invaders holds the loose confederation of Florentine cities together. If a foreign threat can unite these factious peoples, imagine how well a state would maintain its unity if there were a common enemy within. Second, as long as the people direct their venom toward a small group, they will have no cause to vent their aggression on the leaders within the separate realms. Fear of popular uprising, or even of high levels of dissatisfaction, will become things of the past. Keep the people preoccupied and they will have little concern for the power that is theirs to wield. And third, any malcontent may be branded a member of the outcast group, whether he be one or not. It is then easy enough to dispose of him, as long as the people believe he is a threat to the security of the state. 

Perhaps most important, this malice knows no limits and can ultimately take the people beyond their own borders. There will come a time when the tide of men’s hatred runs dry within the state, when all members of the odious sect have been eliminated. At that moment, the demagogue (through pamphlets, agitators, and the like) may invent a new threat in the guise of yet another group; or, more prudently, he may determine that the threat has merely stolen away to another state, one which therefore needs cleansing.

How perfectly suited to human nature is this tactic. Men are wretched creatures, pompous, weak, and greedy, with less reason than brutish desire to guide them in their wayward lives. Allow them their aggression and they will cause little harm. Limit the reach of their claws, however, and they will destroy everything about them. So the demagogue must focus that aggression, unleash it beyond the state, and in so doing enhance the state. Expansion, fed by hatred, is the surest means to security.

It should be clear that the group accused of endangering stability is but an invention of the Overseer and the Prefects. No single sect could possibly determine the life or death of a state. But reality is not a concern for those who seek a well-ordered realm. All that is necessary is that they convince the people that the peril is real. And where better to teach the people how to direct their hatred than in a school that claims to fight moral corruption? What, then, should be the lessons? Cultivate distrust, and the people will seek out those who pose even the smallest threat to the state. Cultivate righteousness, and the people will attack all enemies with vigor. Cultivate simple answers and aggression, and the people will vanquish evil beyond their own walls, feeding power’s lust for conquest in the name of virtue. In that way, education and aggression work hand in hand to assure stability.

 

To build from chaos in the economic realm requires almost no contact with the people. Instead, the Prefect here must, for a time, take full control of all commerce, trade, and exchange. The people will offer little resistance. Ill at ease from the sudden explosion of chaos, and well directed by the demagogue, they will recognize and accept the need for drastic measures. Only the economist will stand as an incorruptible force. Furthermore, as long as food appears on their plates, the people will consent to all efforts to cleanse the state of corruption. All lands will become the jurisdiction of the state. All guilds will yield power to the state. Those who resist will find themselves labeled enemies, a name to which the people will not take kindly.

If any doubt that one man, with the people’s consent, may seize considerable authority in a single economic area, think only of the upstart Henry in England. It is no secret that he intends to take all Church lands within that realm for himself should Rome not resolve to his liking the question of his divorce of Catherine. This king well knows that the people will pose no obstacle to his desires, for he has convinced them that he is ridding England of a corrupt institution; that is, the most sacred, holy Catholic Church. Even the threat of excommunication is no match for his heretical designs and his people’s prideful sanctimony.