Joab: A Biblical Critique Of Machiavellian Tactics

By Caleb Henry

[Caleb Henry is Assistant Professor of Political Science at Seattle Pacific University in Seattle, Wash.]

I. Introduction

In 1505 Pope Julius II decided to remove Baglioni, the tyrant of Perugia, from his position of power. Baglioni, a despot who was guilty of incest and parricide, had already gathered the troops necessary for his self-defense. Regardless of these troops, Julius entered the city relatively unarmed, thereby challenging Baglioni with the force of his personality. Baglioni surrendered and was led out by the Pope to the waiting army.

This picture of a pope single-handedly conquering a tyrant was, of course, popularized by Machiavelli.[1] Machiavelli infamously argued that the tyrant’s cowardice was inexcusable, for he should have crushed the pope and the cardinals and enriched himself with their possessions. Instead, Baglioni was held back by his conscience. By not being altogether “wicked,” Baglioni was altogether doomed to failure. By contrast, Julius’s reputation went before him and gave him a victory that he should not have obtained.[2]

Machiavelli’s recommended tactics caused a furor within the Christian world for he refused to pay attention to the moral norms proclaimed by either revelation or nature. Machiavelli implied that the prince should be more concerned with his “reputation” than with the moral norms proclaimed by the priests. Not surprisingly, Christians were among the first to attack Machiavelli as a teacher of evil.

Among the many examples of critics of Machiavelli was the sixteenth-century French Calvinist Innocent Gentillet who claimed that Machiavelli “vomits a blasphemy.”[3] The Catholic priest Thomas Fitzherbert also wrote a book for “young statists” with the wonderfully descriptive title,. .. treatise concerning policy, and religion: wherein the infirmitie of humane wit is amply declared, with the necessitie of Gods grace, and true religion for the perfection of policy; and by the way some political matters are treated diuers principles of Macchiauel confuted. .. with a confutation of the arguments of atheists, against the prouidence of God.. . .[4]

Christian clergy were not the only ones paying attention to Machiavelli’s nefarious impact. The literary world also created many Machiavellian characters for the theater.[5] There were famously four hundred references in Elizabethan literature to the “murderous Machiavel.”[6]

Of the writings on Machiavelli, then, it seems that there has been no end. In modern times, too, there has been a substantial academic discussion regarding how to approach Machiavelli’s writings. Isaiah Berlin, in the midst of summarizing four hundred years of these writings, points out that the radical divergence of interpretations is truly startling.[7] Over the past several decades, several interpretive approaches have stood out.

Sebastian de Grazia’s Machiavelli in Hell argues that Machiavelli was not an amoral thinker, but was actually a Christian who was also concerned with the fate of his nation. De Grazia argues that even if Machiavelli was not a very orthodox Christian, he was a believer nonetheless.[8]

Berlin, too, argues that Machiavelli has been incorrectly described as amoral. Machiavelli simply posited two different value systems and chose the non-Christian system. Machiavelli took for granted the pre-Christian conception of ethics as fundamentally rooted in the city or polis. He rejected the Christian ethical system for a classical ethical system rooted in the nation. Berlin holds that Machiavelli valued the creation of a political nation and that this creative end was ultimate and not simply instrumental. Since individuals derive their personal meaning and identity from the city, political morality must also derive from the city and not from an apolitical Christian God. Berlin argues that Machiavelli’s abiding importance lies in revealing that these two ethical systems might be incompatible. Machiavelli assumed the incompatibility of the Christian and pagan ethical systems and joyfully chose the latter.[9]

J. G. A. Pocock’s The Machiavellian Moment follows a similar interpretation by arguing that Machiavelli was striving to reestablish the classical republican tradition.[10] Those scholars who follow Pocock’s interpretation view Machiavelli as restoring a civil life that had been substantially undermined by medieval Christianity.

In contrast, Leo Strauss argues that Machiavelli was fundamentally a teacher of evil and desired to undermine both natural law and Christian tradition within western civilization. Strauss explicitly saw himself as restoring the traditional view of Machiavelli by reading his writings more closely than Strauss’s contemporaries did.[11]

Harvey Mansfield has built upon Strauss’s work in responding to Pocock’s views. Mansfield maintains that Machiavelli was not simply fighting for classical republican virtue.[12] He points out that Aristotle believed that the few and the many would jostle for rule by arguing based on the good of the city. Machiavelli differs from Aristotle by arguing that only the few want to rule; the many simply want to be left alone. Machiavelli laid the groundwork for modern liberal democracy by openly endorsing party conflict between those who desire glory and those who desire only security.

Mansfield points out Machiavelli’s conviction that republics must continually acquire new territory and that this need demands ambitious rulers or princelike leaders. Machiavelli’s “new modes and orders” were substantially a secularization of Christian doctrines. By anticipating necessity, the prince can conquer the realm that had previously been mistakenly ceded to God. The prince should use religion (and the gods) for manipulative purposes, but the prince himself need not concern himself with divine law. Machiavelli’s The Prince gained its renown by being the “best book to argue that politics has and should have its own rules and should not accept rules of any kind or from any source where the object is not to win or prevail over others.” Mansfield thus defines Machiavellian politics as the belief “that ‘you can get away with murder’: that no divine sanction, or degradation of soul, or twinge of conscience will come to punish you.”[13]

Machiavellian studies have prospered as a result of the interplay among these interpretive approaches. This article will not, however, explicitly contribute to these issues. Instead, I will hearken back to those thinkers whom Harvey Mansfield has described as the “anti-Machiavellians.”[14] Modern philosophers might praise Machiavelli’s escape from Christianity, but the anti-Machiavellians angrily defended a role for religion and morality in politics. In contradistinction to the modern philosophers, the anti-Machiavellians were horrified at Machiavelli’s vicious attack on justice and morality.

My anti-Machiavellian approach will present Joab as a scriptural counterexample to the historical examples Machiavelli uses (or manipulates) to create his impious political theory. Joab is a biblical warning both to those who would follow Machiavelli’s advice and to those who would follow Machiavelli’s example. To a surprising degree, the OT historical narrative of Joab reads like a practical manual of Machiavellian tactics. Unlike the tyrant Baglioni, Joab had no compunction about murdering whoever stood in his way. This commitment to fulfill his ambition allowed Joab to ignore whatever moral barriers might have stood before him. Joab’s not inconsiderable talents were singularly focused on his career in an amoral fashion that Machiavelli could not help but approve. If Machiavelli was a “teacher of evil,” to use Strauss’s phrase,[15] then Joab was a doer of evil. Unfortunately for Joab, his actions resulted in a reputation that proved to be counterproductive, and at this point Machiavelli might have found fault with Joab’s tactics. Although Joab attained a great degree of success, his success eventually led to his down fall. The reputation that gave Joab power eventually undermined him.

This article will review Machiavelli’s recommended political tactics and, related to those tactics, his views on fortune. Machiavelli argued that the writers of history inevitably color that history in light of their own prejudices.[16] If we assume that the biblical narratives were chosen and written for a purpose, what lessons can we draw from the OT story of Joab? Might the OT historians have a counterargument against Machiavellian tactics?

I will argue that the OT narrative suggests that Joab’s actions gave him short-term success but at a long-term price. His reputation for subordinating moral concerns to his own ambition forced him to rely on a figurehead king. Thus, Joab spent much of his life attempting to ensure the continuance of his power in a post-Davidic kingdom. In an ironic twist, the very reputation that gave Joab military command resulted in his eventual demotion and execution. The narrative then suggests that although Joab intended to manipulate the king, he was actually being used to establish the Davidic kingdom. Joab’s ambitious control of David was itself subordinated to a broader plan. This interpretation will explain why Joab’s actions, although rooted in self-interest, helped consolidate David’s control over Israel.

I will proceed by examining how Joab maintained his position as military commander, how Joab controlled David, and how Joab’s political success fundamentally undermined his own position. I will then conclude with several critical observations regarding Joab’s Machiavellian tactics and goal. Just as Machiavelli’s works give a latent critique of Joab’s life, so also the Jewish chroniclers present their own critique of Machiavelli’s life and recommendations.

II. The Power Behind David’s Throne

We are initially introduced to Joab as the de facto leader of David’s army and as a determined warrior primarily concerned with what will give him the victory (2 Sam 2:13). Although the OT describes his martial spirit, he is specifically not called a great warrior; among the two OT lists of David’s mighty men, Joab is nowhere to be found despite the inclusion of Joab’s two brothers and Joab’s armor bearer (2 Sam 23:8–39; 1 Chr 11:10–47). What are the authors of Samuel and Chronicles implying by calling everyone around Joab, but not Joab, mighty warriors? More specifically, if Joab was not among the greatest warriors, how was he able to obtain and maintain his position as leader of the army?

Joab might have initially obtained his position through his family connections; as David’s nephew he would presumably have had an inside track to positions of authority. Regardless of how Joab obtained his position, he does not appear to have completely gained David’s confidence. David tried to replace Joab on at least three different occasions, and these three occasions would have substantial repercussions.[17]

Surprisingly, Joab is not mentioned until the civil war occurred between David and Ish-bosheth, the son of Saul.[18] Joab, as the head of David’s army, entered into battle against Abner, the head of Ish-bosheth’s army. As the battle progressed, one of Joab’s two brothers pursued Abner. Abner tried to dissuade him but the brother continued his pursuit. As a result, Abner craftily killed him by thrusting the butt end of the spear through him (2 Sam 2:8–32). Joab’s troops bettered Abner’s troops and this battle was a harbinger of the war itself.

As the war continued, David gradually began to get the upper hand. In this context, Ish-bosheth charged Abner with sexual improprieties. Abner responded by meeting with David in order to establish a truce. Abner offered to make a covenant with David in order to establish David as head over all of Israel(2 Sam 3:12). Given Abner’s current position as head of the rebel army, Abner was unlikely to accept a military demotion. Regardless of what David proffered in return, Joab must have seen David’s agreement with Abner as a threat to Joab’s own position as head of the army.

Abner was either Saul’s uncle or nephew and had been the commander of Saul’s forces (1 Sam 14:50). Even more than Joab, Abner appears to have been the power behind the throne. Indeed, one could argue that this civil war in Israel was actually between Joab and Abner. Abner was the one who took Ish-bosheth and “made him king,” and presumably this move explains why Ish-bosheth was afraid of Abner (2 Sam 2:8–9; 3:11).[19] However, Joab also had reason to fear Abner.

First Chronicles 26:28 lists four individuals who had contributed to the house of the Lord: Samuel, Saul, Abner, and Joab. One wonders whether these gifts were for the purpose of establishing relative worth, for these contributions largely came from conquering neighboring nations. If Abner was giving for this purpose, Joab’s suspicions were justified; Abner was already competing with Joab. Joab’s suspicions were likely heightened because David apparently kept Joab ignorant of his meeting with Abner until after the meeting occurred.[20] These fears led to Joab’s decision to murder Abner.

Unfortunately for Joab, Abner met him in Hebron, which was a city of refuge. The cities of refuge had been established in the Mosaic law for the protection of those who mistakenly killed another (Num 35:22–25). During the aforementioned battle, Abner had tried to dissuade Joab’s brother from fighting him and had then killed him in an unusual way. Thus, the city would have at least allowed him into its sanctuary for a hearing. Since Abner was in Hebron, killing him within the city would have meant committing a sacrilege against the Mosaic law.

Joab was apparently aware of these subtleties for he “took him aside in the gateway to speak with him privately” (2 Sam 3:27), and there he killed Abner. Joab knew that by killing Abner in the middle of the gate, he would not be breaking the Mosaic law regarding the city of refuge. By paying attention to the fine print of the Mosaic law, he could argue that he was simply revenging the death of his brother.

David’s response typified his dealings with Joab. He cursed Joab and publicly mourned Abner’s death. He did not, however, punish Joab or his brother in any way. Instead, he claimed, “Today I am powerless, even though anointed king; these men, the sons of Zeruiah, are too violent for me” (2 Sam 3:39). This failure to act takes on greater significance when one realizes that David had executed the men who had earlier claimed to have killed Saul (2 Sam 1:14–15) and would execute the men who would later kill Ish-bosheth (2 Sam 4:9–12).

Although Joab was only legally concerned with the revenge killing of Abner, he could not have failed to realize that Abner was an important rival for the head of David’s army. Abner would not have given up Ish-bosheth for nothing; he would have expected at least a reciprocal position in David’s regime. By killing Abner, Joab eliminated the first substantial rival to his position.

David next attempted to remove Joab almost immediately after consolidating his kingship.[21] One of his first military campaigns after the civil war was against Jerusalem. In conquering the city, however, David offered the role of commander to whoever first struck down a Jebusite; he did this despite Joab’s success during the civil war. Given Abner’s recent object lesson to the army, it comes as no surprise that no one stepped forward and Joab “became” chief of the army (1 Chr 11:4–6).

The third and final potential challenge to Joab’s position came when David’s son Absalom revolted against his father. Absalom chose Joab’s cousin Amasa for his commander. After Joab had successfully defeated the rebellion, David pacified the rebellious tribes by replacing Joab with Amasa (2 Sam 19:13).[22]

When another revolt occurred, David gave Amasa three days to put the army back together. After Amasa delayed, David gave Joab’s brother Abishai the authority to put down the revolt; he did not give it to Joab. However, we see that Joab immediately obtained tactical control. David could give control of the army to Abishai, one of his “mighty men,” but Abishai immediately relinquished control to Joab.

While chasing the rebelling army, Joab found Amasa and, while pretending to kiss him, killed him with the sword in his left hand. After killing Amasa, Joab dealt with the rebellion as the de facto head of the army. After putting down the rebellion, Joab returned to Jerusalem and we are again told that “Joab was in command of all the army of Israel” (2 Sam 20:23).

III. Machiavellian Warrior

Although it is clear that Joab willingly killed anyone who threatened his position, his abilities went beyond that of a mercenary’s abilities. In fact, Joab’s talents were as political as they were military. As Keith Bodner has pointed out, we can learn much about Joab’s character from observing how he used, or misused, language in order to manipulate individuals.[23]

Ted Cohen has argued that the OT narratives present David as being particularly susceptible to storytelling. For example, the prophet Nathan confronted David’s adultery by telling a story.[24] Joab realized this and repeatedly used stories in his dealings with David. When attempting to bring Absalom back into the good graces of the king, Joab had the woman of Tekoah tell a story (2 Sam 14:1–20). Also, when giving his report on the murder of Uriah, Joab suggestively referred to the story of Abimilech (2 Sam 11:26).[25]

However, Joab’s manipulation of language goes beyond storytelling in revealing his character. Although he was more than willing to contradict David to his face, Joab sometimes resorted to simply interpreting David’s commands in light of what Joab desired. For instance, Joab did not want to obey David’s command to number the people of Israel. In this case, Joab was unable to persuade David to give up his plan; therefore, he conveniently interpreted David’s command as numbering all the people of Israel with the exception of Levi and Benjamin (2 Sam 24:1–9; 1 Chr 21:1–6; 27:24). An even more interesting example is Joab’s conduct in connection with the murder of Uriah, the husband of Bathsheba.

David’s instructions to Joab on how to murder Uriah are surprisingly naïve. Joab was simply to withdraw the army, leaving Uriah behind to be killed by the enemy. This military plan reads more like a comedy skit than it does a legitimate plan. Executing it would have made clear to the entire army that Uriah was marked for death. Joab apparently realized this and changed the plan. He instead sent an entire troop of men directly to the wall whereupon many men died. Although it appears to have been a clear violation of military strategy,[26] the new plan masked the murder of Uriah within what was essentially the murder of a larger number of soldiers.[27] Joab was willing to sacrifice more men in order to better hide his actual purpose.

This ability to work behind the scenes in order to mask his intent seems to have been Joab’s foremost talent. The wise woman of Tekoah perhaps described it best when talking to David: “In order to change the course of affairs your servant Joab did this” (2 Sam 14:20). An alternate translation makes explicit Joab’s method in this situation: “In order to change the appearance of things your servant Joab has done this thing” (NASB).

Unfortunately for Joab, his tendency to put expedience above morals appears to have been well known, at least among the soldiers. Prior to sending them out to fight against Absalom, David instructed his army to treat Absalom well. During the battle a soldier told Joab that he had seen Absalom caught in a tree. After Joab angrily asked why he had not killed Absalom, the soldier stated that he, along with the rest of the army, had heard David’s commands. He then shrewdly pointed out, “If I had dealt treacherously against his life. .., then you yourself would have stood aloof” (2 Sam 18:13). In a wonderfully humorous moment Joab does not reply to this charge; instead he states impatiently, “I will not waste time like this with you” (18:14).

IV. Joab’s Achilles Heel

It is his reputation for Machiavellian tactics that ensured Joab’s reliance upon David. The people loved David and distrusted Joab; therefore, it was necessary to maintain David in his kingship in order to placate the people of Israel and Judah. However, this reliance would prove to be Joab’s undoing. Joab appears to have been aware of his tenuous position that when David died he would lose his connection to the people. All of his work in solidifying his position within David’s monarchy would come to naught when David died. Thus, the OT narrative presents Joab’s attempt to ensure the stability of his position under the next kingship.

Joab’s analysis of regal history in Israel apparently taught him the importance of physical appearance for a lasting kingship. There had been two kings of Israel, Saul and David. Saul was described as taller than the rest of the people (1 Sam 10:23), and David was “ruddy, and had beautiful eyes, and was handsome” (1 Sam 16:12).

Given this history, it is no surprise that Joab saw Absalom as David’s successor, for Absalom was described as the most handsome and praised man in Israel (2 Sam 14:25–26). This outward appearance helps explains why, when Joab saw that David wanted to recall Absalom from banishment, Joab went to such extraordinary lengths to argue Absalom’s case. Joab used the wise woman of Tekoah to tell David the story that would convince him to reprieve Absalom. After David realized that Joab was behind the story Joab personally thanked David for reprieving Absalom. Joab was doing more than simply arguing for what David already desired. He was attempting to ingratiate himself with the prince and future king.

If Joab thought that his machinations in getting Absalom reprieved would ensure Absalom’s subservience to Joab, he quickly realized that he was mistaken. Rather than meekly accepting Joab’s guidance, Absalom demanded that Joab obtain an appointment with the king for him. When Joab ignored Absalom, Absalom had Joab’s field set afire.

Absalom’s independent refusal to follow Joab’s advice might explain why Joab not only did not join Absalom’s rebellion but also murdered Absalom in direct defiance of David’s command. The author of Kings finds Joab’s refusal to follow Absalom noteworthy, particularly in light of Joab’s later decision to follow Adonijah: “for Joab had followed Adonijah, although he had not followed Absalom” (1 Kgs 2:28). Joab could manipulate Adonijah. He could not manipulate Absalom.

George Nicol has pointed to the ambiguity of David’s message to Joab during the civil war with Absalom. He has tried to explain the ambiguity by suggesting that David sent a coded message commanding Joab to kill Absalom.[28] However, Joab had his own reasons for killing Absalom. A pardoned Absalom might eventually become king, and he had already revealed that Joab would not have a special place in his administration. David might not have intended to have Absalom killed (as his message suggests), but Joab certainly would have intended it.

The failure of Joab’s plans for Absalom appears to have forced Joab to delay his plans for kingly succession. He did not attempt to influence the kingly succession until close to the end of David’s life. When Joab did make his move, the biblical account makes clear why he chose as he did.

David’s son Adonijah “was also a very handsome man, and he was born next after Absalom” (1 Kgs 1:6). In fact, the author of Kings makes quite a few explicit correlations to Absalom which include David’s failure to discipline him, the retinue of fifty which accompanied his chariot, and the celebratory feast which he gave his supporters.[29] Joab appears to have seen the same similarities, for the following verse tells us that Adonijah was getting advice and help from Joab.[30]

As the story develops, we see the extent to which Joab was thought to be advising Adonijah. After Solomon gave a pardon to Adonijah, Adonijah asked for David’s cohabiter to be given to him in marriage. As Solomon pointed out, this would have given Adonijah a legitimate claim to the throne, and so Solomon executed Adonijah. However, Solomon did not believe that Adonijah was capable of coming up with this plan on his own. Solomon asked his mother, who had brought Adonijah’s request to him, “And why do you ask Abishag the Shunammite for Adonijah? Ask for him the kingdom as well! For he is my elder brother; ask not only for him but also for the priest Abiathar and for Joab son of Zeruiah” (1 Kgs 2:22).

Interestingly, Wesselius implies that this plot was too transparent for someone with Joab’s subtlety Wesselius suggests that it was actually Bathsheba’s insidious plan. Bathsheba desired to have vengeance upon Joab because Joab was the one who killed her first husband, Uriah. This is why Bathsheba deliberately framed Adonijah’s request as she did, knowing that this would ensure the kingdom for her son Solomon and result in the death of Joab. Thus, when publicly repeating Adonijah’s request to Solomon, she forgot to include Adonijah’s acknowledgement of Solomon’s kingship.[31]

V. A Critique Of Machiavelli’s Tactics

The biblical story of Joab ends with his execution. Joab’s execution was the culmination of decisions that he had made throughout his life and is the OT’s critique of Joab’s Machiavellian approach to civil life. The narrative presents at least two interconnected themes that are applied to Joab’s life. The results of Joab’s manipulation of reputation or appearance for his own ambitious purposes latently critiques Machiavelli’s tactical advice to ambitious princes. At the same time, divine providence’s manipulation of Joab’s ambition in light of the overarching biblical narrative ultimately critiques Machiavelli’s personal goal.

Joab’s fatal tactical flaw was his reputation for amoral ambition. His reputation was that of a Machiavellian schemer who was only concerned with his own position. This reputation forced him to work behind the facade of a popular king. It also forced him to seek a properly malleable prince who could be trusted for the post-Davidic kingdom.

This reputation was what ensured that Solomon would eventually execute Joab. Wesselius has pointed out that David listed three men whom he wanted Solomon either to reward or punish: Joab, Barzillai, and Shimei. Solomon then dealt with three people in particular: Adonijah, Abiathar, and Joab. Barzillai and Abiathar were both spared; the rest were executed. The one person on both lists who was killed was Joab. Wesselius writes, “It is evident that the narrator wants to point out in this way that both kings had their own private reasons to want Joab dead and that these reasons mattered more than the reason which they ostensibly gave for his death.”[32] Nicol suggests that David’s real motivation in desiring the death of Joab was the protection of Adonijah; David feared that as long as Joab was alive, Solomon would distrust Adonijah’s every action,[33] which turned out to be true. Thus, Joab’s reputation eventually ensured Joab’s death.

As already noted, Wesselius points to the central role that Bathsheba played in the death of Joab and suggests that she was primarily seeking revenge for Joab’s murder of Uriah. This possible subtext should not, however, be used to downplay the ostensible reason for Joab’s execution. Abner and Amasa, the two men listed in both David’s accusation (1 Kgs 2:5) and Solomon’s accusation (1 Kgs 2:32), were the two alternatives for Joab who were killed by Joab. Regardless of whether these men were more righteous than Joab, as Solomon claimed, they were clearly alternatives to Joab. Importantly both men were killed by Joab for ostensibly legitimate reasons.

It does not take a talmudic education to suspect that Solomon’s legal position for Joab’s execution was rather tenuous. Indeed, midrashic scholars would later argue that Joab actually defeated Solomon on legal grounds by arguing that Abner’s death was justified by the death of Joab’s brother and Amasa’s death was justified by the ongoing rebellion against David. One midraschic author argued that when Solomon declared Joab’s death sentence, Joab responded that a curse could not be visited twice upon an individual; therefore, David’s curse upon Joab would be visited upon David’s descendants. As it turns out, all of David’s curses against Joab arguably did come true among David’s descendants.[34]

Within the narrative context, Solomon’s charge against Joab should not be primarily viewed as a legal charge. By bringing up these two men, Solomon is clearly thinking of Joab’s past and very recent attempts to maintain his position of authority. Solomon’s reference to Joab’s past is directly posited against Adonijah’s recent attempt to marry David’s cohabiter

Interestingly, the biblical narrator does not say that Joab was behind Adonijah’s plan. Although Joab had shown a willingness to use women in the past, it is hard to see Joab being so naïve as to rely on Bathsheba’s and Solomon’s simplicity. Nicol has pointed out that Joab’s actions in 1 Kgs 2:28–30 are quite odd; why did this very military man die without a fight?[35] The answer might be Joab’s ignorance of Adonijah’s simplistic plot. At the very least, Solomon does not appear to have had any proof of Joab’s complicity. Thus, Joab died as a result of his appearance or reputation as a political schemer.

This is made even more poignant by his apparent replacement with Benaiah who was listed as one of David’s mighty men and was in charge of David’s personal bodyguard. Benaiah had performed great deeds in battle (2 Sam 23:20–23), but always stayed in the narrative background throughout David’s life. His faithful service during David’s reign was rewarded during Solomon’s reign, as Benaiah then took charge of Solomon’s army. Benaiah personally executed Joab, and in so doing, presented himself as the alternative to Joab. Whereas Joab single-handedly sought power, Benaiah was content to serve in the capacity he was given. Solomon’s accusation was then exemplified in the execution itself. Joab was killed by one more righteous than he who would be given the position that Joab spent his life fighting to maintain (1 Kgs 2:28–35).

Joab demonstrates Machiavelli’s advice to single-mindedly pursue personal power by ignoring, manipulating, or reinterpreting any divine laws which might be in the way. Joab’s reputation, which gave him power throughout his life, ultimately ensured his personal destruction. At the same time, Joab’s personal ambition resulted in a unified kingdom.

Joab, while viciously fighting for his own ambitious goals, helped protect and establish David’s reign. This is what has led Baruch Halpern to suggest that Joab must have been killing on the orders of David.[36] After all, one could easily argue that David, as well as Joab, benefited from the murders of both Abner and Amasa. Both Abner and Amasa had shown willingness to align themselves with a leader rebellious against David. What was to keep them from doing so again? Abner was clearly accustomed to being in complete control of the supposed king. It was not likely that he would now be willing to take his orders from David. Similarly, Amasa’s negligence in putting down the rebellion against David at the least suggests incompetence in protecting David from revolts.

Wesselius has claimed that this is an unlikely connection.[37] The scriptural authors do not seem to intend such a reading. In fact, this similarity of interest makes sense when one understands Joab’s inherent need for a popular king. Joab’s murders were not only intended to protect his own position, but also to establish David’s rule. Joab needed a strong and popular king. If David became weaker or less popular, Joab’s own position would become more tenuous.

In the context of the greater biblical narrative, this ironic manipulation of Joab’s ambition is important. An OT proverb states, “The king’s heart is a stream of water in the hand of the Lord; he turns it wherever he will” (Prov 21:1). Joab’s history suggests that this is also true of military commanders. Joab’s personal ambition ensured David’s success. Joab’s ambition eventually served the greater role of protecting David’s reputation rather than vice versa.

Machiavelli would undoubtedly approve of Joab’s approach to politics, but reply that Joab’s career was a failure caused by Joab’s refusal to rely on his “own arms.” Machiavelli recommended that princes obtain their own connection with the people. Joab, therefore, mistakenly presented himself to the people as the one executing David’s will instead of personally connecting with the people. Joab should have claimed to be executing God’s (or the people’s) will and not David’s will. That would have given him the ability to unify the nation. Joab’s failure simply shows that he lacked sufficient “virtue” or ability.

The OT historians would reply that Joab’s reputation simply could not allow for that kind of a connection. Joab had a reputation with the people. The woman of Tekoa joined a common soldier in presenting a portrait of a man who would do whatever was necessary to obtain power. Joab obviously believed that his success required unifying the nation. Unifying the nation required a popular leader who could be more widely loved than he was. Joab’s amoral approach to military and political affairs prohibited him from connecting with the people in a positive way.

Joab’s personal power required a unified nation, and David was needed to unify that nation. The people of Israel and Judah loved David and were willing to unite under him. David’s example of love for God and love by God helped to establish the kingdom. Joab’s example would have given him power within the military, but Joab knew that the tendency towards rebellion within the nation’s tribes could not be solved under his example. Rebellious tribes would continually fight Joab but would unite under David. To use Machiavelli’s words, the “times” did not allow Joab to obtain kingly power.

However, Machiavelli assumes that a prince’s failure shows a lack of virtue or ability to “conquer” fortune.[38] Therefore, a complete critique of Machiavelli’s tactics requires critiquing his personal goals. Those goals are found in his reliance on fortune in explicit contradistinction to providence.

VI. A Critique Of Machiavelli’s Personal Goal

Many readers have noticed that Machiavelli likes to impute God’s actions to David. “Machiavelli quotes the Bible only once in the Discourses (D I 26), and when he does, he makes a manifest blunder (see D III 48), attributing to David an action of God’s.”[39] Machiavelli needs to make this attribution, for the biblical text not only says that God did these things, but also makes clear that God assigned authority to David on behalf or “for the sake” of the people of Israel (2 Sam 5:12). In other words, David was executing for the good of the people of Israel, but his executive power was limited by divine providence or law.

In order to be a princely figure Machiavelli can appropriate, David must instead be manipulating divine words for his own purposes. Machiavelli’s David must conquer his neighbors, make the rich poor and the poor rich, and fill the hungry with good things and send the rich away empty.[40] This is a David who conquers by manipulating the words of the nation’s god, not a David who writes and sings psalms of praise and worship to his God. It is most certainly not a David who sings about his love for the law of the Lord.

Machiavelli desired religion to be a tool capable of being wielded by a political leader. This required changing a personal Christian God who interacts with history into a fortune capable of being conquered. If fortune is a woman, Machiavelli claimed, she is always available to be conquered. Providence, however, demands obedience and makes slaves of all young, ambitious men. Therefore, princes should anticipate necessity rather than look to religious or natural ends.

This is directly contrary to David’s own advice to his son Solomon: “Keep the charge of the Lord your God, walking in His ways and keeping His statutes, His commandments, His ordinances, and His testimonies, as it is written in the Law of Moses, so that you may prosper in all that you do and wherever you turn” (1 Kgs 2:3). David argued that providence blesses the king who follows the divine law. David was driven by love of the law and love of God. This was the David whom the nation of Israel loved.

Machiavelli’s David instead manipulated religious laws and subordinated everything to his ambition. As Machiavelli knows, this is actually a picture of Joab. David was driven by religious ends; Joab solely concerned himself with necessity. Not surprisingly, Machiavelli’s description of David partakes of elements of Joab’s life.

David is supposed to have made “new governments with new names, new authorities, new men.”[41] As noted above, this passage includes a phrase that Machiavelli lifts from Luke 1:53 and allows Machiavelli to attribute God’s actions to David. However, David’s list of supposed conquests actually refers to Joab’s actions. One of the few cities where all of these things occurred during David’s reign was Rabbah.

The nation of Israel besieged the city of Rabbah while David was having his dalliance with Bathsheba. In fact, it was during this battle that Uriah was killed by Joab. It was Joab, not David, who actually conquered the city. After Joab had taken the city’s water supply, it was only a matter of time before the city collapsed. Joab pointed this fact out to David and told David to come down against the city “or I myself will take the city, and it will be called by my name” (2 Sam 12:28). After Joab had conquered the city, he allowed David to take credit for the conquest. The later historian(s) of Chronicles makes this clear in a summary of the battle: “Joab led out the army, ravaged the country of the Ammonites, and came and besieged Rabbah.. .. Joab attacked Rabbah and overthrew it” (1 Chr 20:1).

Machiavelli not only imposed upon David the actions of God, he also imposed upon David the actions of Joab. David actually unified the nation, and so Machiavelli must present David and not Joab as the manipulating agent. Machiavelli encourages princes to mimic Joab’s use of “low” personal necessities while he simultaneously pretends that this will create David’s unified kingdom.

Initially, this observation appears to confirm Berlin’s argument that Machiavelli simply wanted to create a unified Italian polis. However, Machiavelli’s patriotism is, at the least, undermined by his advice to a French king on how to conquer Italy. Furthermore, Machiavelli’s picture of a republic constantly acquiring, even at the expense of neighboring republics, does not seem to present a stable republican government.

Mansfield suggests that Machiavelli’s actual goal was to create new modes and orders that would ensure a perpetual republic.[42] These modes and orders would remain even if a specific polis did not remain. A prince who follows Machiavelli’s Davidic example might not have an everlasting name, but he would be replaced with another prince who would likewise be following Machiavelli’s instructions. The polis would not last forever. Machiavelli’s modes and orders would. Machiavelli’s republic would, in fact, last longer than that established by David. Where David looks to obedience and providence to ensure his kingly lineage, Machiavelli looks to his new republic’s modes and orders.

The OT scribes would laugh at Machiavelli’s naïvety A perpetual republic requires a perpetual prince. If Machiavelli’s modes and orders were to establish a perpetual republic, they must be capable of adapting to all circumstances. Requiring princes to adapt to the times and expecting the results of their doing so to remain the same throughout time was naïve.

Berlin points out that Machiavelli assumed a constant and non-elevated human nature which would ensure that his advice would work throughout the future. “He allows too little to the ideal impulses of men.”[43] Like Hobbes, Machiavelli assumes that self-preservation will outweigh all other motives within men. This mistaken assumption led to his misunderstanding the changes that would occur.

Berlin suggests that Machiavelli failed to foresee the results of explicitly positing an incompatible ethical theory in contradistinction to Christianity Machiavelli failed to understand that great deeds require a certainty of belief. Certainty of belief is undermined when the liberal republican discovers that there are (at least) two mutually incompatible ethical systems. By taking away ethical certainty, Berlin argues, Machiavelli took away the possibility for great political deeds. Toleration undermined political passion.

This was a major turning point, and its intellectual consequences, wholly unintended by its originator, were, by a fortunate irony of history. .., the basis of the very liberalism that Machiavelli would have condemned as feeble and characterless, lacking in single-minded pursuit of power.[44]

In a similar vein, Mansfield says that Machiavelli would always desire that princes seek to conquer fortune. “Fortune personified is a half-way station between a truly pious conception of providence mysterious to human beings and a scientific or atheist view of fortune as mere chance.”[45] A world without this personified fortune (or risk) is a world with no possibility for great political deeds. Unfortunately, a world with no risk is precisely what western liberal democracies and their theoretical defenders desire.

These two critiques are connected. What if great deeds require an ultimate belief? What if the divine law not only limited David’s options, but also drove him to attempt the great deeds that led to the unification of Israel? What if Machiavelli’s personification of fortune was only a first step towards redefining humanity’s possibilities even lower? What if this redefinition of human nature results in flaccid republics that would repulse Machiavelli himself ?

The OT scribes knew that a perpetual republic requires a prince who is perpetually adapting to the times. Even if human nature and the political goals of the regime remain constant, history is made of changing circumstances. A perpetual republic requires a perpetual prince and Machiavelli could not replace providential rule.

As the scribes look at Joab, they would suggest that attempts to manipulate providence are ultimately doomed to fail. The OT is full of individuals who attempted to fool providence. “And it happened” that their actions were the means God used to fulfill his word. This was also true for Joab. Joab attempted to manipulate David’s divinely ordained rule for his own purposes, but God used Joab’s ambition to ensure David’s rule. Who was using whom?

Machiavelli should have better appreciated the OT stories he appropriated. David’s actions were successful and celebrated because David was concerned with divine ends. Joab has been largely forgotten because Joab was only concerned with necessity and personal ambition. David’s teleology defeated Joab’s necessity.

VII. Conclusion

Joab could “swear in both the scales against either scale” but could not successfully “equivocate to heaven.”[46] Joab’s ambition was all-consuming, but it could not succeed itself. Joab failed to concern himself with anything that would last beyond his life. Even his concerns for the future only regarded the continuance of his power. The biblical narrative presents his judgment as grounded in political realism but lacking a concern for the greater good of the nation.

Machiavelli could argue that Joab’s failure was rooted in Joab’s insufficiently following Machiavelli’s advice. If Joab had maintained his “own arms” and obtained his own connection with the people, Joab would not have been so reliant upon the king. This would have freed him from his dependence upon the king and allowed him to act more resolutely against Solomon than Adonijah did.

However, Joab did have a connection with the people: one of fear. Every politically aware citizen was acquainted with Joab’s reputation for masking the truth. Those who paid close attention knew about Joab’s ruthless ambition for personal power. These two things would ensure that he maintained his power, but they would also prohibit him from claiming the throne. His ambition was a countervailing power.

Machiavelli’s tactical criticisms of Joab’s techniques mask a deeper criticism. Machiavelli’s own writings were an attempt to allow young men to conquer fortune. By learning from Machiavelli, young men could minimize the intrusion of fortune into their plans. Leo Strauss has pointed out that this was a direct attack on the belief in God’s providence; men should cease acting under the mistaken belief that God works in history.[47]

Joab presents a fine example of both Machiavelli’s critique of Christian morality and Christianity’s critique of Machiavelli. A Machiavellian analysis of Joab would claim that Joab simply was not crafty enough. Changing his tactics more completely could have allowed Joab to conquer fortune. The OT authors reply that Joab was indeed Machiavellian in that he refused to use his craft for anything higher than his personal ambition. Joab’s narcissistic approach to politics was his fundamental failing. His failure was not rooted in insufficient tactical maneuvers. It was rooted in his self-centered ambition. In fact, this ambition would lead to his downfall. At the same time, his ambition helped establish the Davidic kingdom. Thus, Joab’s ambition was made to serve a higher good, albeit one not intended by him.

Machiavelli attempted to replace a historical providence guided by God with a fortune largely guided by Machiavelli. The OT historians would recognize that Machiavelli’s reputation hinged upon the success of his personified fortune and would then refute Machiavelli’s pride by looking at Joab. Rather than explicitly refute Machiavelli’s “blasphemy,” these historians would simply enjoy the picture of a providential manipulation of an ambitious leader who was self consciously manipulating the divine law. We would profit by doing the same.

Notes

1. Niccolò Machiavelli, Discourses on Livy (trans. Harvey C. Mansfield and Nathan Tarcov; Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996), 1.27.
2. Ibid.
3. For Gentillet’ s critique of Machiavelli, see his Anti-Machiavel (1576; repr. ed. C. Edward Rathe; Geneva: Droz, 1968). Dante Germino points to Leo Strauss’s use of this phrase to suggest that Strauss explicitly placed himself within that interpretive tradition (“Blasphemy and Leo Strauss’s Machiavelli,” The Vital Nexus 1 [May 1990]: 148-49).
4. Published 1606 in Douai, France.
5. For a quaint overview of the Elizabethan stage’s fascination with Machiavelli, see Mario Praz, “Machiavelli and the Elizabethans,” The Proceedings of the British Academy 14 (1928): 49-97; and Edward Meyer, Machiavelli and the Elizabethan Drama (Weimar: Emil Felber, 1897).
6. Isaiah Berlin, “The Question of Machiavelli,” in The Prince (ed. and trans. Robert Adams; New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 1992), 212; repr. from The New York Review of Books, November 4, 1971.
7. Ibid., 206-12.
8. Sebastian de Grazia, Machiavelli in Hell (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1989).
9. Berlin, “The Question of Marchiavelli.”
10. J. G. A. Pocock, The Machiavellian Moment: Florentine Political Thought and the Atlantic Republican Tradition (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1975).
11. Leo Strauss, Thoughts on Machiavelli (Glencoe, Ill.: Free Press, 1959).
12. Harvey C. Mansfield, Taming the Prince: The Ambivalence of Modern Executive Power (New York: The Free Press, 1989; repr., Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1993), 24.
13. Harvey C. Mansfield, introduction to The Prince, by Niccolò Machiavelli (trans. Harvey C. Mansfield; 2d ed. with corrections and a glossary; Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998), both quotes from vii.
14. Harvey Mansfield, Machiavelli’s Virtue (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996), ix.
15. Strauss, Thoughts on Machiavelli, 9.
16. Machiavelli, Discourses, preface to Bk. 2.
17. Alternatively, Baruch Halpern argues for a Machiavellian David in David’s Secret Demons: Messiah, Murderer, Traitor, King (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001).
18. Joab’s brother Abishai was, however, with David while David was fleeing from Saul (2 Sam 26:6).
19. Unless otherwise noted, the Scripture quotations contained herein are from the NRSV.
20. For more on Abner’s importance, see J. A. Soggin, “The Reign of ʿEshbaʾal, Son of Saul,” in Old Testament and Oriental Studies (ed. J. A. Soggin; BibOr 29; Rome: Biblical Institute Press, 1975), 31–49.
21. After the civil war, he stayed at Hebron (2 Sam 2:11). Subsequently, after conquering Jerusalem, he dwelt in Jerusalem and built it up (2 Sam 5:6–9; 1 Chr 11:4–9).
22. During this time David again expressed his impatience with the “sons of Zeruiah,” regardless of the fact that only Abishai spoke to him (2 Sam 19:22).
23. Keith Bodner, Is Joab a Reader-Response Critic? JSOT 27 (2002): 19-35.
24. Ted Cohen, “Identifying Metaphor: Metaphors of Personal Identification,” Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism 57 (1999): 405.
25. Meir Sternberg argues that the story of a woman’s killing Abimelech was a subtle reference to David’s own precarious position because of Bathsheba (The Poetics of Biblical Narrative [Indiana Studies in Biblical Literature; Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1985], 29, 30, 219–22).
26. Joab feels obliged to justify this part of the plan in his message to David.
27. Bodner, “Is Joab a Reader-Response Critic?,” 24–25. Also see Sternberg, Poetics, 213–14.
28. George Nicol, The Death of Joab and the Accession of Solomon: Some Observations on the Narrative of I Kings 1–2, ” SJOT 7 (1993): 134-55.
29. See ibid., 138.
30. T. Ishida argues that Adonijah was the rightful heir to the throne (“Adonijah the Son of Haggith and His Supporters: An Enquiry into Problems about History and Historiography” in The Future of Biblical Studies [ed. R. E. Friedman and H. G. M. Williamson; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987], 165–87). Halpern argues that Solomon was not even David’s actual son (David’s Secret Demons, 391–406).
31. J. W. Wesselius, “Joab’s Death and the Central Theme of the Succession Narrative (2 Samuel 9-1 Kings II),” VT 40 (1990): 347-48. For more on Joab and Bathsheba, see Moshe Garciel, “The Story of David and Bathsheba: A Different Approach,” CBQ 55 (1993): 244-62.
32. Wesselius, “Joab’s Death,” 344.
33. Nicol, The Death of Joab and the Accession of Solomon, 142 n. 16.
34. Ephraim E. Urbach, “The Death of Joab: A Midrashic Interpretation of Political History,” in Binah: Studies in Jewish History, Culture, and Thought, Vol. 1 (New York: Praeger, 1989), 8.
35. Nicol, The Death of Joab and the Accession of Solomon, 150.
36. Halpern, David’s Secret Demons, 73–103.
37. Wesselius, “Joab’s Death,” 340.
38. Machiavelli, The Prince, Ch. 25.
39. Mansfield, introduction to Discourses, by Machiavelli, 35.
40. Machiavelli, Discourses, 1.19.1; 1.26.
41. Machiavelli, Discourses, 1.26.
42. Harvey Mansfield, Machiavelli’s New Modes and Orders: A Study of the “Discourses on Livy” (Ithaca, N.Y: Cornell University Press, 1979; repr., Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001), 7–13; Mansfield, “Introduction,” Discourses, 17–44
43. Berlin, The Question of Machiavelli,” 230.
44. Ibid., 235.
45. Mansfield, “Introduction,” Discourses, 39.
46. Shakespeare, Macbeth, 2.3.
47. Strauss, Thoughts on Machiavelli, 188–91.