I see what is deemed 'hatred' today as the expression of a synthetic a priori principle which presides over a liberally-limited field of aggressions and animosities. It is within the bounds of critical 'Reason.' It is rational: any anger or ill-will needs shore-up a universal, or else be dismissed as fanaticism, or a "lapse" in reason.
Where did you think "Don't hate the player [chaotic particular], hate the game [ordered generality]" came from?
Entering the transcendental, thus, all religious-based aggressions, for example, become impossible to comprehend: they need to turn back upon themselves and "state their case/cause," but the cause itself is already cut-off by the force of the Antinomy, the bouncer whom Kant trusts to keep the transcendental Christian.
Sorry, I mean keep it secular, "Copernican," rational, "on the path" of science.
It is only within such a framework that 'hatred' appears to have no rights, to make no sense, to appear gratuitous and empty; indeed, this is how the synthetic a priori dismisses the occasional aggressive lapse, or that pesky religious fervor.
Formally, hatred cuts, it separates.
It is markedly not the separation of 'analysis,' for the latter is rational; an priori synthesis has its back. 'Hatred,' however, is an appeal for an absolutely unquestionable separation. Hence, it is itself a denial, or at least a calling into doubt, the a priori power of this synthesis.
Yes. Kant. Power.
It's always the quiet ones.
Not that Kant didn't sense that; his Antinomies, in fact, do just that. They "hate," they separate and cut-off the non-synthesizable questions, as the boundary for a synthetic system. They enforce the rational law.
It's like a holy lie, taboo and totem, except Enlightened.
Hatred - in the destitute cries and radical challenges from the one on the right - requires a different methodology (from the one on the left).