“He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.”— Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil
I. The Old Pact: Hatred as Strategy
There is a logic older than peace, older than justice.It is not the logic of covenant. It is the logic of survival.
You see it in the first kingdoms, the first coalitions of fear. The first time one tribe stood beside another not in friendship—but in shared dread.
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”It sounds clean. Ancient. Strategic. But what it really means is: I will stand beside a monster if it helps me wound the devil I fear more.
This is not loyalty. It is alignment without intimacy.This is not wisdom. It is temporary vengeance, disguised as strategy.
Kautilya knew this. The Arthashastra—that ruthless manual of Indian statecraft—codified it not as morality, but necessity. Alliances are not built on love. They are built on terror.
But here is what we never say: when you build an alliance on hatred, you do not win. You borrow. You take a loan from a future you will not be able to pay. And when that debt comes due, it is not your enemy who suffers. It is your conscience. If you still have one.
II. Manifestations of the Pact
1. EuropeThe continent that claimed to birth enlightenment has always trafficked in darkness. What we call “diplomacy” was often a pact between wolves.
Britain aligned with the Ottoman Empire—not to protect life, but to contain Russia. The West stood with Stalin—not because they believed in freedom, but because they feared fascism more. The flags changed, but the principle didn’t.
2. The Middle EastThe modern Middle East is littered with alliances made in hell.The U.S. backed Saddam Hussein against Iran, armed jihadists against communists, funded Israel while preaching peace.
Iran, for its part, embraced Hezbollah not out of shared theology, but shared rage. What unites them is not a future—but a foe.
3. The Cold WarThe CIA trained the men who would become our nightmares.The Taliban. Al-Qaeda. The lie of "freedom fighters" was nothing more than resentment outsourced to the mountains. We built an arsenal of proxies, and then pretended we were surprised when the weapons pointed back.
Hatred is never stable. It mutates. And every coalition of hate becomes, eventually, a betrayal.
III. The Moral Cost: When Resentment Replaces Vision
There is a difference between standing for something and standing against someone. We are a nation that has forgotten the difference.
When coalitions form through hate, the result is not policy. It is spectacle. Not justice. But vengeance delayed.
We see this in politics. Populists who ascend not through vision, but through rage. Voters who do not love their leaders—but hate the alternative more.
And in that transaction, something sacred is lost.The soul becomes a vote. The vote becomes a weapon. And the body, again, is left behind.
I have seen this in addicts. In parents. In parties.The moment they stop dreaming of what could be—and start living to destroy what is. It is not a platform. It is a scream.
This is the logic of collapse. Of nations. Of minds.
IV. The Meme and the Mob
Modern Tribalism in the Age of Performance
The internet has made this disease airborne.Now, hatred needs no army. It only needs a meme.
We retweet those we despise—so long as they jab at a shared enemy.We defend the indefensible—so long as they draw blood from the right tribe.We build no loyalty, no trust, no truth. Only clout.
The politics of coalition has become the pornography of destruction.It does not nourish. It excites. And then it vanishes.
And what rises in its place is not order—but confusion.Not discernment—but dopamine.
And so we forget:That every retweet is an endorsement.That every amplification of evil—under the banner of critique—is still energy.
The demon does not care if you love it.It only cares that you look.
V. The Last Rebuke
Nietzsche, Jesus, and the Silence That Saves
There were those who saw this before us.
Nietzsche warned:“Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become one.”He knew that hatred seduces. That the will to strike back becomes the will to dominate. That to defeat evil, one must not mirror its architecture.
But the greater rebuke came earlier. And softer.Jesus of Nazareth, crucified by empire and obedience, whispered not for vengeance—but for mercy.
“Love your enemies.”It was not moral posturing. It was survival.Because he knew: the alternative is not safety. It is transformation into the very machine you once opposed.
To love your enemy is not to yield. It is to refuse the trap.It is to keep your soul when the world begs you to spend it.
That is the only true resistance left.
Not the rage of the mob.Not the meme that mocks.Not the coalition of resentment.
But the clarity of mercy.The refusal to join through hatred.The quiet allegiance to truth—even when it stands alone.
— Elias WinterAuthor of Language Matters, a space for reflection on language, power, and decline.
For a related reflection, see my essay:
