The inevitable conclusion of freudian duality is zealotry.


That is, if you believe that you are good and they are evil, that you are right and they are wrong, then the furthest and most honest extent that this can be carried is radicalism and violence. If we are good and they are evil and we know this, the only thing we can do is kill them and train our children to kill them. We must send our armies to their lands and destroy them until the day comes when they are us, and then they will no longer be a bother to us. Until that day comes, however, we must perpetuate the conflict that will lead to that inevitable day when we have conquered not just their lands but their hearts and minds, or destroyed them and replaced them with our own, like the Athenians at Milos.

A zealot, one marked by their fervent partisanship for a person, a cause, or an ideal, will stop at
nothing to promote this radical agenda.  Though the word itself is derived from the Jewish rebelling against the Romans in the first century of the Common Era, a worthy fight against a tyrranical power, it could also just as easily apply to the Roman soldiers who put them down, and the politicians who sent them.  Each side of the conflict knew that their position was the right one; the Romans just happened to back up their position with a big enough army.  

No one benefits from this duality.  If so many wars hadn't been fought in history, I'd say that the assertion of this duality itself is invalid and wrong, because most people are relatively moderate.  Can the power of this zealous duality be such that it overpowers the moderation that most people practice?  The evidence suggests this.  

Can the moderates overthrow the zealots without becoming them?