Francois, Duc de la Rochefoucauld (1613-1680) is considered France’s greatest writer of maxims. By necessity we over-simplify a complex reality; and, some have argued that the corpus of writing left by Rochefoucauld is merely a one-note song whose essence boils down to this: Everything we do is driven by self-love. Although Rochefoucauld’s notoriety rests upon his ability to capture key elements of human life in sharply focused words, reducing his message to one idea is as unsatisfactory as reducing Hillary Clinton to “the mother of all liars,“ Barack Obama to “an empty suit,” or John McCain to “a cranky old man.” Certainly when Rochefoucauld looked for the roots of some branch of human behavior, often he found it to stem from self-love; but, his brilliantly distilled observations of human social psychology are more justly characterized as studies in the tension between the grand and fateful arena of outward actions and appearances and those internal realities of thought and feeling known, if at all, only to the actors in the game. Moreover, considering only one or a few maxims in isolation fails to show the interrelatedness of the strands in Rochefoucauld’s tapestry. His collected Maxims form a body.
Reading Maxims is like opening a box in the attic and finding it full of diamonds, each articulated from a lump of coal. Every sentence is the expression of a brilliant mind honed by a lifetime of carefully watching himself and others on the turbulent political stage of the seventeenth century French royal court, noting remarkable patterns, and transforming his observations into striking aphorisms. Rochefoucauld’s Maxims anticipates by two centuries modern concepts of defense mechanisms, self-awareness and unconscious behavior, as well as the critical role of appearances and manipulation. He shows us that in our folly, we are both intelligible and predictable.
Rochefoucauld saw, listened to, and plotted with and against such giants of his time as Richelieu, Mazarin, Louis XIII, Anne of Austria, and Marie d’Medici. Though known as a brave and honorable man, Rochefoucauld suffered from maddening twists of fate, losing more often than not in both love and war. But his genius was to be a perennial student, diligently learning valuable lessons regardless of the fickle lurches of Fortuna’s wheel. He sought after truth and found consolation in the love of wisdom. For this reason, applying the Duc’s analysis to the contemporary sport of politics is not only a propos, it is a study whose lessons may be applied profitably by those hoping to find something lasting in the disillusioning transience of the political game.