Philosophy of the Modern Era

The Italian Renaissance

The perspective of the Modern Age, in stark contrast to the Medieval worldview, was born in Italy with a movement known as the Renaissance. Initially, this worldview was embraced only by a handful of solitary thinkers, among whom Petrarch stood out, but throughout the fifteenth century, it became characteristic of a significant majority of cultured Italians, both laypeople and clergy. In some respects, the Renaissance Italians, with the exception of Leonardo and a few other thinkers, were largely untouched by the cult of science that distinguished the most significant innovators of the seventeenth century; this gap is connected to their rather incomplete liberation from superstition, particularly in the form of astrology. Many continued to revere authority, akin to the medieval philosophers, albeit substituting ecclesiastical authority with that of antiquity. Undoubtedly, this was a step forward in the journey of liberation from ecclesiastical dominance, as ancient thinkers often disagreed among themselves, necessitating individual judgment to discern whom to follow. However, very few Italians of the fifteenth century would dare to espouse a viewpoint that could not find support in either antiquity or church teachings.

To grasp the Renaissance fully, one must first provide a brief overview of the political landscape of Italy. Following the death of Frederick II in 1250, Italy was generally free from foreign interference until the invasion by the French king Charles VIII in 1494. Within Italy, five significant states emerged: Milan, Venice, Florence, the Papal States, and Naples, along with numerous smaller principalities that formed various alliances with the larger states or submitted to their dominion. Until 1378, Genoa contested Venice for commercial and maritime supremacy, but thereafter it fell under the protection of Milan.

Milan, which led the opposition to feudalism in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, came under the dominion of the Visconti—an able family whose rule was characterized not by feudalism but by plutocracy—following the final defeat of the Hohenstaufen. The Visconti reigned for 170 years, from 1277 to 1447; after a three-year interregnum marked by the restoration of republican governance, the power was seized by a new dynasty—the Sforza—who were connected to the Visconti and adopted the title of Dukes of Milan. From 1494 to 1535, Milan became a battleground between the French and the Spanish, with the Sforza oscillating between alliances with one side or the other. During this tumultuous period, they found themselves in exile or serving as nominal rulers. Ultimately, in 1535, Milan was annexed to the territories of Emperor Charles V.

The Venetian Republic occupied a somewhat peripheral position within Italian politics, particularly during the initial centuries of its grandeur. It was never conquered by barbarians and initially regarded itself as a subject of the Eastern emperors. This tradition, coupled with Venice's trade with the East, secured its independence from Rome, which lasted until the Council of Trent (1545); the history of this council, penned by the Venetian Paolo Sarpi, is steeped in a sharply anti-papal spirit. We are already aware that during the Fourth Crusade, Venice insisted on the conquest of Constantinople. This facilitated the growth of Venetian trade, which subsequently suffered from the Turkish conquest of Constantinople in 1453. For various reasons, partly related to food supply issues, the Venetians deemed it necessary to acquire significant territories on the Italian mainland during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries; this created adversaries for them and ultimately led to the formation of the League of Cambrai in 1509—a coalition of powerful states that defeated Venice. Though Venice might have recovered from this disaster, it could not withstand the ramifications of Vasco da Gama's discovery of the sea route to India around the Cape of Good Hope (1497-1498). This event, in conjunction with the increasing power of the Turks, precipitated Venice's decline, which lingered until Napoleon stripped it of its independence.

The constitution of Venice, which originally bore a democratic character, gradually lost this quality, culminating in an oligarchy post-1297. The foundation of political power lay with the Great Council, whose membership, starting from this time, became hereditary and was restricted to the most prominent families. The executive authority was vested in the Council of Ten, elected by the Great Council. The Doge, a ceremonial head of state, was elected for life; nominally, his power was quite limited, but in reality, his influence was often decisive. Venetian diplomacy was regarded as exceptionally astute, and reports from Venetian ambassadors were noted for their considerable depth. Since the time of Ranke, historians have turned to them as one of the finest sources for studying the events they chronicled.

Florence was the most civilized city in the world and the principal source of the Renaissance. Nearly all the great names in literature and many early and some later great names in art are associated with Florence; however, our focus now is less on culture and more on politics. In the thirteenth century, the population of Florence consisted of three warring classes: the nobility, wealthy merchants, and the common people. The nobility largely belonged to the Ghibellines, while the other two classes were Guelphs. The Ghibellines ultimately faced defeat in 1266, and by the fourteenth century, the party of the common people triumphed over the wealthy merchants. However, this conflict did not resolve into a stable democracy but rather into the gradual emergence of a form of governance that the Greeks would have termed "tyranny." The House of Medici, which eventually became the rulers of Florence, began as political bosses of the democratic camp. Cosimo de' Medici (1389-1464), the first representative of the family to achieve undisputed supremacy, still held no official position; his power relied on skillful manipulation of elections. He was shrewd and, when possible, acted with charm, but when necessary, he was ruthless. His successor, after a brief interlude, was his grandson Lorenzo the Magnificent, who ruled from 1469 until his death in 1492. Both Medici owed their status to the wealth they accumulated primarily through trade, as well as through mining and other industries. They excelled in enriching both Florence and themselves, and under their rule, the city prospered.

Lorenzo's son, Pietro, lacked his father's virtues and was expelled in 1494. This was followed by a four-year period under the influence of Savonarola, during which a kind of puritan revival turned people against merriment and luxury, creating a rift with free thought and directing minds towards piety, which was believed to characterize a simpler age. Ultimately, however, primarily for political reasons, Savonarola's enemies prevailed, and he was executed, his body burned (1498). The republic, ostensibly democratic but in reality plutocratic, lasted until 1512, when the Medici power was restored. One of Lorenzo's sons, who became a cardinal at the age of 14, was elected pope in 1513 and took the name Leo X. The House of Medici ruled Florence under the title of Grand Dukes of Tuscany until 1737; however, by that time, Florence, like the rest of Italy, had grown impoverished and lost its former significance.

The secular power of the popes, which originated with Pepin and the forged Donation of Constantine, significantly increased during the Renaissance; however, the methods by which the popes achieved this goal stripped the papacy of spiritual authority. The conciliar movement, which met with a disgraceful end in the conflict between the Council of Basel and Pope Eugene IV (1431-1447), represented the most devout elements in the church; perhaps more importantly, it embodied the viewpoint of church leaders north of the Alps. The papal victory was a triumph for Italy and, to a lesser extent, Spain. Italian civilization in the second half of the fifteenth century was fundamentally different from that of the northern countries, which retained a medieval character. Taking culture seriously, the Italians were indifferent to morality and religion; even in the eyes of clerics, an elegant Latin style atoned for many sins. Nicholas V (1447-1455), the first humanist pope, distributed papal positions to scholars whom he esteemed for their deep knowledge, paying little regard to other considerations; Lorenzo Valla, an Epicurean and the very man who exposed the forgery of the Donation of Constantine, criticized the style of the Vulgate and accused St. Augustine of heresy, was appointed apostolic secretary. This policy of patronage towards humanism, which was prioritized over piety or orthodoxy, continued until the sack of Rome in 1527.

The patronage of humanism, though it horrified the pious North, can be acknowledged as commendable from our perspective; yet, no arguments can justify the belligerent politics and immoral lifestyles of certain popes, aside from the considerations of overt statecraft. Alexander VI (1492—1503) devoted his entire papacy to elevating his own persona and that of his family. He had two sons—Duke of Gandia and Cesare Borgia—of whom he clearly favored the former. However, the duke was murdered, possibly by his own brother; thus, the pope had to concentrate his dynastic ambitions on Cesare. Together, they conquered Romagna and Ancona, with the intent of forming a principality for Cesare; yet, upon the pope’s death, Cesare was gravely ill and unable to act swiftly. Consequently, the territories they had conquered were returned to the patrimony of St. Peter. The depravity of these two men soon became legendary, making it difficult to discern truth from fiction in the accounts of the countless murders they were accused of committing. Nevertheless, there can be no doubt that in the art of treachery, they surpassed all that the world had known up to that point. Julius II (1503—1513), the successor to Alexander VI, could not boast of particular piety but caused fewer scandals than his predecessor. He continued the policy of expanding papal territories; as a warrior, he had merits, but not as the head of the Christian Church. The natural result of the pagan politics of the Renaissance popes was the Reformation, which began under Julius's successor, Leo X (1513—1521).

The southern tip of Italy was occupied by the Kingdom of Naples, which was connected with Sicily for most of the time. Naples and Sicily constituted a unique personal kingdom for Emperor Frederick II; here, he established an absolute monarchy of a Muslim type—enlightened but despotic, stripping the feudal nobility of any power. After Frederick II’s death in 1250, Naples and Sicily passed to his illegitimate son Manfred, who, however, inherited an irreconcilable enmity with the Church and was expelled by the French in 1266. The French, through their conduct, incurred hatred and were slaughtered during the “Sicilian Vespers” (1282); thereafter, the kingdom belonged to Pedro III of Aragon and his heirs. Following various upheavals that led to a temporary division of Naples and Sicily, they were reunited in 1445 under Alfonso the Magnanimous, a notable patron of literature. Beginning in 1495, three French kings attempted to conquer Naples, but ultimately the kingdom became the possession of Ferdinand of Aragon (1502). Charles VIII, Louis XII, and Francis I of France made claims—rather tenuous in legal terms—on Milan and Naples; they all invaded Italy, achieved temporary successes, but were ultimately defeated by the Spaniards. Spain’s victory and the Counter-Reformation brought the Italian Renaissance to an end. Since Pope Clement VII stood as an obstacle to the Counter-Reformation and, as a member of the Medici family, was a friend to France, Charles V instigated the sack of Rome in 1527 by an army predominantly composed of Protestants. After this, the popes became religious figures, and the Italian Renaissance came to a close.

The statecraft in Italy was incredibly convoluted. Small princes, mostly tyrants owing their power solely to themselves, formed alliances with one or another of the larger states; if they miscalculated in this game, death awaited them. Wars were endless, yet before the arrival of the French in 1494, they were almost bloodless: soldiers, being military mercenaries, sought to minimize the risks associated with their profession. These purely Italian wars had little connection with commercial interests and did not impede the growth of the country’s wealth. Much time was dedicated to state affairs, but they were conducted ineptly; the invasion of the French caught the country virtually defenseless. French troops instilled terror in the Italians by actually killing people in battle. The subsequent wars between the French and Italians were genuine wars, bringing suffering and devastation. However, the Italian states continued to plot against one another, seeking assistance from France or Spain in their internal disputes, reflecting a complete absence of national unity. Ultimately, all faced destruction. It must be emphasized that Italy would inevitably have lost its significance due to the discovery of America and the route to the East around the Cape of Good Hope; however, this downfall could have been less catastrophic and had a less destructive impact on Italian civilization.

The Renaissance was not a period marked by great achievements in philosophy, but it yielded certain fruits that were essential prerequisites for the greatness of the seventeenth century. First and foremost, the Renaissance shattered the rigid scholastic system that had become an intellectual straitjacket. Furthermore, it revived the study of Plato, thereby fostering a demand for intellectual independence, at least to the extent necessary to make a choice between him and Aristotle. Regarding both of these philosophers, the Renaissance facilitated an accurate, source-based understanding of them, free from the interpretations of Neoplatonists and Arab commentators. Even more importantly, the Renaissance established the custom of viewing intellectual activity not as contemplation in monastic solitude aimed at preserving an unchangeable orthodoxy, but rather as a splendid social adventure.

The replacement of the scholastic Aristotle with Plato was hastened by contact with Byzantine scholarship. Already at the Ferrara Council (1438), which formally reunited the Eastern and Western Churches, a dispute erupted in which the Byzantines advocated for the superiority of Plato over Aristotle. A significant role in spreading Platonism in Italy was played by Gemistos Plethon—a zealous Greek Platonist of dubious orthodoxy; the contributions of Vissarion, a Greek who became a cardinal, were also substantial. Cosimo and Lorenzo de' Medici were admirers of Plato; Cosimo founded and Lorenzo continued the work of the Florentine Academy, largely dedicated to the study of Plato. Cosimo died while listening to one of Plato’s dialogues. However, the humanists of that time were too engrossed in the study of antiquity to create anything original in the field of philosophy.

The Renaissance was not a popular movement; it was the endeavor of a small group of scholars and artists patronized by generous benefactors, particularly the Medici and the humanist popes. Without this support, the Renaissance could not have achieved such remarkable successes. Petrarch and Boccaccio, who lived in the fourteenth century, spiritually belonged to the Renaissance, but since the political conditions of their time were different, they exerted less influence on their contemporaries than the humanists of the fifteenth century.

The relationship of the scholars of the Renaissance with the Church is difficult to characterize with a simple formula. Among them were open free thinkers, though even they usually agreed to convene a council, reconciling themselves with the Church when they sensed the approach of death. Most were outraged by the corruption of the contemporary popes, yet they were still glad to serve them. Historian Guicciardini wrote in 1529:

“I find ambition, greed, and the depravity of the clergy more repugnant than anyone else does, both because each of these vices is abhorrent in itself and because each one and all of them together ill suit those who consider themselves chosen servants of God. Finally, because these vices often contradict one another, they can only coexist in truly peculiar individuals. My position near many popes always inspired in me a desire to see them in the heights of greatness, as my own benefits were closely linked to that greatness; but if it were not for the latter, I would have loved Martin Luther as myself—not to rid ourselves of the duties imposed upon us by Christian teaching as we have come to understand it, but to see this entire band of scoundrels confined within such limits that they would be compelled to relinquish either their vices or their privileges.”

It is stated with commendable candor, making abundantly clear why the humanists could not assume the role of initiators of the Reformation. On the other hand, the majority of them saw no possibility for compromise between orthodoxy and free thought; they could not adopt a position akin to that of Luther, for they had freed themselves from the medieval adoration of the intricacies of theology. Mazzucco, in describing the vice of monks, nuns, and members of mendicant orders, declares, “There would be no better punishment for them than if the Lord were to extinguish the fires of hell; then they could no longer live at the expense of others and would be forced to take up the plow.” Yet, it does not occur to him (as it did to Luther) that one could deny the existence of purgatory while retaining much of Catholic belief.

The wealth of Rome depended only slightly on the revenues derived from papal territories; it primarily constituted a tribute extracted from the entire Catholic world through a theological system asserting that the keys to heaven rested in the hands of the papacy. An Italian who would undermine faith in this system risked impoverishing Italy and losing Rome’s standing in the Western world. Consequently, the denial of orthodoxy during the Italian Renaissance was purely intellectual in nature and did not lead to a schism or any attempt to incite a popular anti-church movement. The sole exception, and even that in a limited sense, was Savonarola, who remained spiritually rooted in the Middle Ages.

Most humanists retained those superstitions that found support in antiquity. While they might acknowledge magic and witchcraft as evil, they did not consider them impossible. In 1484, Innocent VIII issued a bull against witchcraft, provoking horrific persecutions in Germany and other countries. The most zealous advocates of astrology were free thinkers; it gained popularity not witnessed since antiquity. The first result of freeing individuals from the church was not an ability to think rationally but a readiness to embrace any ancient absurdity.

Equally pernicious was the first result of liberation in moral terms. The old rules of morality lost all respect; most rulers ascended to power through treachery and maintained it through ruthless cruelty. When cardinals received invitations to dine at the coronation of a pope, they, fearing poisoning, would arrive with their own wine and cupbearer. Aside from Savonarola, it is difficult to name even one Italian of this period who would risk anything for the public good. The evil stemming from the corruption of the popes was evident, yet nothing was done against it. The desirability of Italian unity was clear, but the rulers could not unite among themselves. A threat of foreign domination loomed over the land, yet every Italian ruler was prepared to call upon any foreign power, even the Turks, in any dispute with another Italian ruler. I cannot conceive of a crime, aside from the destruction of ancient manuscripts, in which individuals of the Renaissance were not often culpable.

Outside the moral sphere, the Renaissance had great merits. The glory of the Renaissance in architecture, painting, and poetry remains undiminished. It gave birth to titans such as Leonardo, Michelangelo, and Machiavelli. The Renaissance liberated educated individuals from the constraints of medieval culture and, even while remaining enslaved to the cult of antiquity, opened scholars' eyes to the fact that venerable authorities held the most contradictory opinions on nearly every issue. By reviving knowledge of the Greek world, the Renaissance created a spiritual atmosphere in which it became possible to rival Hellenic achievements and in which individual genius could find freedom unknown since the time of Alexander. The political conditions of the Renaissance favored individual development but were unstable; this instability and individualism were closely interlinked, as had been the case in Ancient Greece. A stable social system is a necessity, yet all stable systems invented thus far have hindered the development of exceptional artistic or intellectual gifts. How many murders and anarchy are we willing to endure for great achievements akin to those of the Renaissance? In the past—many; today—far fewer. The solution to this problem remains elusive, despite the increasing significance of growing social organization.