On Bickering Enemies

My blogging partner and others have been quick to laugh at the whole abortion-satanism kerfuffle (pro-abortion mob: "Hail Satan!" Satanists: "Hell no!"). When the powers of darkness are with each other at war, we tend to forget that they hate us all the more. I am reminded of this passage from Tolkien's The Return of the King:

The big orc, spear in hand, leapt after him. But the tracker [orc] springing behind a stone, put an arrow in his eye as he ran up, and he fell with a crash. The other ran off across the valley and disappeared.

For a while the hobbits sat in silence. At length Sam stirred. 'Well, I call that neat as neat,' he said. 'If this nice friendliness would spread about in Mordor, half our trouble would be over.'

'Quietly, Sam,' Frodo whispered. 'There may be others about. We have evidently had a very narrow escape, and the hunt was hotter on our tracks than we guessed. But that is the spirit of Mordor, Sam; and it has spread to every corner of it. Orcs have always behaved like that, or so all tales say, when they are on their own. But you can't get much hope out of it. They hate us far more, altogether and all the time. If those two had seen us, they would have dropped all their trouble until we were dead.'

(J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King: The Tower at Cirith Ungol)

It shouldn't surprise us that Satan and Moloch have little love for each other, nor their minions, worshipers, hirelings, and other followers. At best, it gives us a glimpse of what becomes of any society in which they become ascendant. Sometimes, the enemy of my enemy is still not my friend.