Frederick the Great's Philosophical Writings

Frederick the Great (1712-1786) was characterised by Voltaire as a philosopher king in the mode of Solomon, although critics highlight inconsistencies between his writings and military policy – his reign was an enlightened absolutism (though see his justification on p. 169). He was unusual in being both a monarch and an author, writing not only philosophical discourses but also poems, essays and satires, almost entirely in French. He maintained an extensive correspondence with prominent European intellectuals. His principal and most striking work here is Anti-Machiavel, published in 1740 – the year of his accession – at the age of 28. It is remarkable achievement for anyone of that age, demonstrating a considerable knowledge of history and politics. The opening sentence sets the tone: 'Machiavelli's The Prince is to morality what Spinoza's work is to faith: Spinoza undermined the very foundations of faith, and it attempted nothing less than the demolition of the entire edifice of religion; Machiavelli corrupted politics, and set out to destroy the teachings of sound morality.' (p. 13) Frederick wants to confront sophism and crime with reason and justice in his detailed chapter by chapter critique with corresponding antidote; his view of human nature is far less cynical.

The sovereign should be concerned with the welfare of his people rather than his own interest and ambition – interestingly, Frederick repudiated the notion of divine right in favour of a social contract. Fundamentally, he puts forward the idea of upright and noble character, which is entirely incompatible with dissembling and deception – he completely rejects the premise that all men are scoundrels. The Prince, however, should not be naïve and should have a realistic understanding of human nature without succumbing to vice and corruption himself. One of his historic examples is Marcus Aurelius, and his audience is the other sovereigns of his day – there is also an essay on forms of government where he concludes that we have to content ourselves with what is least imperfect.

Another theme of the day was self-love in relation to morality where Frederick argues that our true self-interest lies in the practice of virtue. He advocates education of women and is strongly critical of the politics of the Catholic Church, observing that the world is just as corrupt since the crucifixion and redemption – why would God have chosen an unsuccessful strategy? And his dialogue with the dead between Madame de Pompadour and the Virgin Mary is blasphemously irreverent while his examination of an essay on prejudice finds it full of prejudice, concluding 'I regret the time I wasted in reading this work, and the time I am wasting in giving you an account of it.' The same can certainly not be said of this volume, which is an important articulation of many Enlightenment ideals and establishes Frederick as a serious thinker in his own right and a man who strove to be a model of probity, integrity and practical wisdom.