The heart of this law is recognizing that friendships, no matter how deep, come with biases and vulnerabilities. Friends may resent your success, become competitive, or feel entitled, subtly undermining you even if unintentionally. Enemies, on the other hand, approach with a clear motivation and often have something to prove. When properly managed, they can be more predictable and reliable allies than those who are close to you by affection.

The Transgression: Michael III, Byzantine Emperor, put immense trust in his friend Basilius, promoting him from stable boy to chief advisor. Blinded by loyalty, Michael saw Basilius as an extension of himself, assuming friendship would keep them aligned.

But as Basilius grew more powerful, his ambitions swelled, and he saw Michael as an obstacle to his desires. Seizing his moment,

Basilius betrayed his trusting friend, assassinating Michael to claim the throne for himself. Michael’s reliance on friendship made him blind to the dangers of unchecked loyalty.

The Correct Execution: Take the example of Henry IV of France, who, rather than trusting only friends, sought reconciliation with past rivals.

By offering forgiveness to those he’d once fought, he created a network of former adversaries who now had personal stakes in proving their loyalty to him. They were publicly rehabilitated, and thus had every reason to support him earnestly; they knew that betrayal would cost them everything.

Henry’s enemies became his most valuable supporters, often outdoing even his friends in loyalty, since they had more to prove and everything to lose by faltering.

The essence of this law is not to abandon friends or to be cynical but to understand that trust should be measured.

By converting enemies or past rivals, you create allies whose loyalty stems from respect and necessity, often yielding more predictable, steadfast support than the unpredictable tides of friendship.