The speaker raises a mock toast to hatred, praising it the way you might congratulate a rival who has finally achieved something. The "We're so proud!" is sarcastic, almost sneering, but it also carries a strange calm. Hatred, the poem says, has become "a reason, an excuse, a job." Those three words shrink it down. Hatred isn't a grand force here. It's a flimsy justification people hide behind, and something that gives them work to do.
The second half turns the toast around. The speaker repeats "hats off to hatred" and then makes a promise: it won't ruin "us." The pause, marked by "No...", builds a small moment of suspense before the final line, where hatred is expected to do the opposite of what it intends. It will "rebuild" us. The mood is defiant but controlled, more bitter humor and resilience than rage. The poem suggests that those targeted by hatred can come out stronger, and that the attack ends up fueling the very unity it meant to destroy.