A nice review of some new translations of various Machiavelli texts in the New Yorker.  As always, any talk of The Florentine brings to mind Han Fei Tzu; Machiavelli is, after all, the Italian Han Fei Tzu.

   The article is helpful because it brings forward a point I often discuss with my students: do either of these authors, Machiavelli or Han, posit a higher good that might justify the brutal political tactics found in both?  Machiavelli's intermittent republicanism suggests that he does look forward to a broader public interest.   And his concern for something like a public interest comes through in this passage in the New Yorker piece (Constantine is the author of one of the new books on Machiavelli):

The support of the people: this idea or a near variant—“el popolo amico,” “la benivolenzia populare”—occurs
throughout Machiavelli’s little book and slowly gathers weight as the
one possession that the prince cannot afford to be without. Constantine
is right to underscore it. The following observations—which could never
pass as “Machiavellian”—should be viewed against the author’s more
famously glittering advice: “A prince must have the people on his side,
otherwise he will not have support in adverse times”; “A prince need
not worry unduly about conspiracies when the people are well disposed
toward him. But if they are his enemies and hate him, he must fear
everything and everybody.” And the forthright climax of this theme:
“The best fortress for the prince is to be loved by his people.”
Presented as no more than another component of the book’s message of
self-serving Realpolitik, Machiavelli’s steady drumming of the lesson
that the prince must treat his subjects well has an almost subliminal
force.

    That last line, pointing to the political calculation behind public mindedness, dilutes the point somewhat.  But the general thrust of public interest suggested here strikes me as something quite distinct from Han Fei Tzu's perspective.

    Han has much less concern for public opinion.  He disdains it as here:

Nowadays, those who do not understand how to govern invariably say, "You must win the hearts of the people!"  If you could assure good government merely by winning the hearts of the people, then there would be no need for men like Yi Yin and Kuan Chung [exemplary ministers] – you could simply listen to what the people say.  The reason you cannot rely upon the wisdom of the people is that they have the minds of little children.  If the child's head is not shaved, its sores will spread; and if its boil is not lanced, it will become sicker than ever.  But when it is having its head shaved or its boil lanced, someone must hold it while the loving mother performs the operation, and it yells and screams incessantly, for it does not understand that the little pain it suffers now will bring great benefit later.

Now the ruler presses the people to till the land and open up new pastures so as to increase their means of livelihood, and yet they consider him harsh; he draws up a penal code and makes the punishments more severe in order to put a stop to evil, and yet the people consider him stern.  He levies taxes in cash and grain in order to fill coffers and granaries so that here will be food for the starving and funds for the army, and yet the people consider him avaricious.   He makes certain that everyone within his borders understands warfare and sees to it that here are no private exemptions from military service; he unites the strength of the state and fights fiercely in order to take its enemies captive, and yet the people consider him violent.  These four types of undertaking all insure order and safety to the state, and yet the people do not have sense enough to rejoice in them.

The ruler seeks for men of superior understanding and ability precisely because he knows that the wisdom of the people is not sufficient to be of any use. (128-129)

    Some of what Han says here sounds similar to Machiavelli: the provision of certain public goods makes political sense, it helps keep the ruler in power.  But Han's dismissal of the wisdom of the public illustrates a stronger instrumentalism than Machiavelli.  The subliminal message coming from The Prince is that the ruler must respect public opinion, the very thing that Han rejects.  And in respecting public opinion, there is a closer connection between the interests of the ruled and the ruler.  This is less the case in Han.  For him, the ultimate aim is the "order and safety to  the state."  And we should not confuse "the state" and "the people."  The state, for Han, is the means of rule, it is the thing that gives the ruler his power and it is the thing that the ruler must carefully manage and hold on to.  If "order and safety to the state" requires strict laws and harsh punishments, the foundations of Chinese Legalist philosophy, which can be deeply unpopular, then so be it, they must be enacted.  Shave the heads, lance the boils, close your ears to the screams, the state requires it. 

     Am I making too much of this?  I think not.  Machiavelli (1469-1527) lived long after Han (ca. 280-233 BCE) and was surrounded and infused with notions of republicanism.  It seems obvious that he would have a rather different view of the role of popular opinion and interest in politics.  Indeed, Han's direct rejection of popular opinion is one the the things that makes it difficult to apply his thought in a modern context, either American or Chinese (the PRC claims legitimacy based upon popular will).  I still think McCain's unprincipled pursuit of power has a certain Legalist quality to it; but Han Fei Tzu never contemplated anything like the politics of popular opinion that we have today.