The Poisoned Chalice: What Macbeth Teaches Us About Power.
Many of us are fatigued by the heaviness of world affairs today. The chaos and uncertainty eventually catch up with everyone.
Turbulence is not new, though, and we must never think that modernity is immune to the injustices and evils of the past. But when I echo Machiavelli – no, not in his ruthless, scheming demeanour, rather in the sense of putting on my finest robes at the end of the day to sit and commune with the ancients – I do wonder at how they would judge us and the choices we make. Naturally it comes down to context of the times.
I have been reading Macbeth, and am particularly interested in the message of what sort of character is subject to the lure of tyranny, and it raises that perennial question for our own times.
What makes the circumstances ripe for tyranny?
Is it inevitable that assuming the position of leadership will turn one from being righteous to malevolent? Shakespeare’s Macbeth reads as a blueprint to address such questions.
Duncan, the king of Scotland, has been slain by his once loyal general, Macbeth, urged on by his wife’s insatiable desire for power. One of Scotland’s most loyal patriots, Macduff, serves as a mirror to the king’s son, Malcolm, who has to test his own soul as well as that of Macduff’s loyalty to Scotland.
we don’t pay attention to what the past has gifted us with the lessons from history.
It sets the scene for a brilliant strategy in determining who can lead and remain untainted from the political hypnosis held in the poisoned cup of leadership.
Shakespeare has Malcolm question his fitness to assume the crown on the basis of his own human vices.
He points to Macbeth as a man he once thought honest, begging the question, why would he then be?
‘A good and virtuous nature may recoil,
In an imperial charge. But I shall crave your pardon;
That which you are my thoughts cannot transpose:
Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell:
Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace,
Yet grace must still look so.’
History shows that few people can refuse the allure of political temptation to engage in ways that deceive the public – those they are tasked with representing. There is always a story of corruption to hit the mainstream media, not to mention those closely aligned with parties who either partake in or know of the inside skullduggery of factional wars. It is really a case in life, too; how many of us are always strong enough to resist the easier path to our dreams rather than sacrifice much to wait?
And when Malcolm presents his innermost longings to Macduff, assuming that he would judge him accordingly as a man unfit to wear the crown of king, even that did not sway the loyal nobleman. For in his eyes, there was no soul viler than Macbeth, hence no person could match his excessive desire for power:
‘Not in the legions of horrid hell, can come a devil more damn’d
In evils, to top Macbeth.’
Although Macduff acknowledges that untamed intemperance results in the fall of many kings, he urged the young man to not abandon his inheritance.
That Malcolm assesses his own weakness, and questions whether he is fit to govern, reveals that he is worthy of doing so. But it was through the impassioned elegy for the decay of Macduff’s beloved Scotland, that Malcolm had an epiphany.
Interpretation of this passage argues that this was a test for Macduff rather than for Malcolm: because he admits that he has done no wrong, claiming he is chaste and good of heart. But it could indeed be an epiphany – the final act of self-examination. Haven’t we all been there at one time? Where we are about to embark on a mighty project in our lives, but we harbour doubt that we can succeed, so we pause; reflect; and then decide to take the leap – or not.
In contrast to Malcolm’s testing of Macduff’s patriotism, and his own interrogation of his inner motives, Macbeth wavered. He was pressured by his wife’s devious intent to become Queen and relish all the largesse the position offered.
It sets the scene for a brilliant strategy in determining who can lead and remain untainted from the political hypnosis held in the poisoned cup of leadership.
I find the saddest indictment upon our political class and, indeed, upon the citizenry, is that we don’t pay attention to what the past has gifted us with the lessons from history. Thousands of years of examples and warnings of what to do and what to avoid.
Oh, but could we here in 2026 be so blessed as to have such mentors for each and every person who enters the political arena. Sadly, for western nations, these past few decades have seen quite the opposite. Our parliaments are littered with self-righteous and bedevilled individuals who seek merely their own comforts at the expense of the populace.
Political skullduggery is often better seen through the prism of art and drama. It is not just confined to the parliamentary chambers or halls of congress, where most times we are provided mere sloppy entertainment rather than anything of substance to gauge how these people are representing us.
Shakespeare relayed an important message: that kingship is earned through moral self-knowledge; by the ability to interrogate one’s own soul; and to exercise strength to accept an almost poisoned chalice, but one where a will to cleanse is stronger than the urge to corrupt.
Macduff becomes the catalyst who makes Malcolm realise he is ready.
What will become the catalyst for those politicians of today who are willing to interrogate their own souls in pursuit of a poisoned political chalice?




