God and Machiavellianism Theme Analysis

At the center of Christopher Marlowe’s The Jew of Malta is the idea of Machiavellianism, a political philosophy based upon the writings of Italian diplomat Niccolò Machiavelli. Since the 1532 publication of Machiavelli’s political treatise The Prince, Machiavellianism has been associated with unscrupulous scheming and godless corruption in the name of self-interest, and this idea is reflected throughout Marlowe’s play. The play’s prologue is narrated by Machevill, a ghost who calls to mind Machiavelli himself, and Marlowe specifically mentions the anti-Machiavellian movement that was sweeping across 16th-century Europe. When Marlowe’s play was written around 1589, Machiavellianism was largely condemned and considered an Italian problem that had little to do with England, but Marlowe implies that such moral corruption is widespread, both in government and in personal choices and actions. The Jew of Malta underscores the prevalence of Machiavellianism in politics and everyday life; however, the play also suggests that real life isn’t as godless as Machiavellianism is thought to be, and Marlowe ultimately argues that corruption and scheming are no match for God’s divine will.

The play takes place on the Mediterranean island of Malta, which, at the time the play was written, was under the control of the Ottoman Empire. The Maltese government frequently resorts to dishonest and corrupt practices in Marlowe’s play, which highlights the pervasiveness of Machiavellian tactics in broader European society. Malta owes the Ottoman Empire 10 years’ worth of tribute payments (money paid from one government to another to ensure peace and protection) that they can’t pay. To avoid war with the Turks and save the country, Ferneze, Malta’s governor, taxes Malta’s Jewish population and orders each Jew to surrender half their gold and wealth to the state. Ferneze’s decision to tax only the Jewish population reflects the anti-Semitism of the time, but it also underscores Ferneze’s moral corruption and suggests that he has no problem exploiting others for the benefit of Malta. Ferneze’s easy Machiavellianism suggests that such tactics are common among Europe’s powerful elites. After Ferneze taxes and exploits Malta’s Jewish population, he has more than enough money to pay the Turks, but he begins scheming with Martin Del Bosco, the Vice-Admiral of Spain. With Bosco’s help, Ferneze devises a plan to keep the tribute money and remain safe from the Turks under Spain’s protection. But Ferneze does not return the tribute money to Malta’s Jews, which further speaks to Ferneze’s corruption and Machiavellian tactics, along with the corruption of Bosco and the Spanish government. This corrupt deal again suggests that Machiavellianism is common practice in Europe, and it further implies that such tactics are even encouraged by those in power. The Turks do take over Malta, but Ferneze won’t give up so easily. He schemes with Barabas, the richest Jew in Malta, to kill the invading Turks—including Selim-Calymath, the son of the Turkish Emperor. After the Turks are killed in a huge explosion and Selim-Calymath is taken prisoner, Malta is again free, seemingly due to Ferneze’s moral corruption and use of Machiavellian tactics. In short, Machiavellianism isn’t something Ferneze dabbles with as a last resort to save Malta; he is repeatedly dishonest and corrupt, which again suggests that Machiavellian tactics are widely practiced in broader European society.

In addition to the Machiavellian strategies of various countries and governments, devious plots and schemes are employed by several characters—including the play’s protagonist, Barabas, who often resorts to similarly dishonest practices. When the Jews of Malta suspect that Ferneze will tax them to pay the Turks, they seek the advice and guidance of Barabas, a wealthy Jew known for his talent of “policy,” or Machiavellian deviousness. Barabas promises to help the other Jews, but in an aside he claims: “Nay, let ‘em combat, conquer, and kill all, / So they spare me, my daughter, and my wealth.” From the very beginning, Barabas is concerned only with his own wealth and wellbeing, which he plans to maintain even at the expense of others. After Ferneze seizes Barabas’s estate and turns his mansion into a nunnery, Barabas quickly begins scheming to recover his wealth. He convinces his daughter, Abigail, to join the convent under false pretenses and retrieve the gold and jewels hidden under the floorboards. Like the Maltese government, both Barabas and Abigail employ deceptive practices, which again reflects Machiavellian “policy” on an individual level. Abigail eventually sees the error of her ways and joins the nunnery for real as penance for her sins, but Barabas refuses to abandon his Machiavellian ways. As revenge for Abigail’s betrayal, Barabas and his Turkish slave, Ithamore, poison and kill the entire nunnery, including Abigail. Barabas’s ability to murder his own daughter in retaliation for a perceived slight implies that Barabas and his Machiavellian ways know no bounds.

Both Barabas and Ferneze employ Machiavellian tactics, but it is Ferneze who ultimately comes out on top. Ferneze deceives Barabas and kills him instead of Calymath, but it isn’t Ferneze’s scheming and corruption that saves Malta. “So march away,” Ferneze says, “and let due praise be given / Neither to fate nor fortune, but to heaven.” In other words, Marlowe suggests that Malta’s independence and perseverance is due to God’s will, not the Machiavellian scheming of Ferneze or Barabas. Marlowe does not explicitly condemn Machiavellianism for its obvious immorality, but he does suggest that such practices are useless. In the end, it is God’s will that decides the outcome of any given event, and no amount of scheming can ever change that.